Phantom of the Opera
by NerdySkeleton
Summary: Rated for adult themes and violence. "High above a grand stage in a beautiful opera house located in Paris, France, a darkly dressed and completely covered man stood, gazing coldly at the bustling group below him."
1. Chapter 1

**All characters, ideas, song lyrics, direct lines, etc., are property of their respective owners.**

**Everything when in quotes and italicized is singing/song lyrics. Regular words in quotes are just dialogue.

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High above a grand stage in a beautiful opera house located in Paris, France, a darkly dressed and completely covered man stood, gazing coldly at the bustling group below him.

_The Opera Populaire _had reached the day of its performing night for _Hannibal_. Final rehearsals were taking place, though barely anyone had their proper place. The lead soprano, Miss China Giudicelli, shrieked her impossibly high notes as the crew moved all about her.

_The Opera Populaire_ was lavishly decorated, with red velvet on the seats, and gold painted statues everywhere. Lanterns, lamps, and candles were always lit and burning brightly to light the way for the guests. Gorgeous cheery red carpets were lined against the marble stairs leading into the real theater part, and golden colored tassels hung from regal curtains that were attached to the elegant boxes in the theater.

Monsieur Grouse surveyed the embellishments along the majestic theater as the headed outside.

"Ah, Messieurs!" Monsieur Grouse called to a carriage that arrived at the door.

Two gentlemen stepped out from the carriage: one had shaggy brown hair with a kind face, while the other had salt-and-pepper-gray hair and a hard stare.

"Monsieur Thrasher! Monsieur Scapegrace! Pleased to meet you," Monsieur Grouse continued. "Welcome to the opera."

Monsieur Thrasher smiled and nodded happily (he had the brown hair), while Monsieur Scapegrace (who had the graying hair) held out a hand to shake. The current-but-soon-to-retire manager, Monsieur Grouse, led them into the theater. Oh, he was far too old to keep this old theater up, he would say. He needed strong businessmen…the staff was delightful…plenty of beautiful women…

"Here is Madame Bespoke, our ballet instructor," Monsieur Grouse was saying as the three weaved their way through the large crowd of performers. "Our ballet is the next scene."

Monsieur Thrasher smiled widely and stopped suddenly to watch the dancers. "Who's that lovely blonde girl, there?" he questioned innocently.

Madame Bespoke came up to them suddenly and said, "My daughter, Tanith."

"And that one?"

"Stephanie Daaé," she answered. "She has lived with myself and Tanith since her father died when she was young."

"Desmond Daaé? The famous architect, perhaps?"

"His daughter, oui. She has grown up here."

"How unfortunate," Monsieur Thrasher said sympathetically, holding a hand above his heart. "These are all exquisite dancers, I do say."

"Mm, yes, awful…" Monsieur Scapegrace muttered quietly, while trying to subtly ogle the dancers. "They move very gracefully," he noted.

"They practice," Madame Bespoke said shortly, and she left.

"Greetings," a shrill voice rang out, trilling the R.

The gentlemen turned to see the diva before them.

"And this is the magnificent Signora China Giudicelli, our leading soprano," Monsieur Grouse introduced.

She curtsied and fanned herself. "Over five seasons, yes. I shall sing for you. Here, listen," she instructed and positioned herself. "_Maestro_."

The conductor tapped his baton against the stand and started up the music. The song they had not practiced that day was titled _Think of Me_; China simply loved it.

"_Think of me, think of me fondly, _

_when we've said goodbye!_"

Everyone flinched at the high notes she hit.

"_Remember me once in a while – please promise me_

_you'll try. _

_When you find that once again, _

_You long to take your heart ba-_"

Suddenly, an enormous backdrop came crashing down and practically crushing China. She screamed in horror and shock as she fell to the stage. She kicked furiously as the crew worked to get the backdrop up from her. She went into a fit immediately.

"I _quit! _Never again! Ah, ah, ah, no, no! I leave _now_!" she began shouting.

"Monsieur Caelan!" Monsieur Grouse shouted to the ceiling. A shaggy man with long and greasy black hair appeared, and he pleaded not guilty for the curtain falling. He had not been at his post, it seemed.

"Signora, please!" Monsieur Scapegrace and Thrasher pleaded when Monsieur Grouse told them to beg for her.

"No, no, no!" she answered. "For too long these things happen, and so now, _this_ thing does _not _happen! Goodbye!"

They watched in disappointment as China Giudicelli suddenly marched out triumphantly with her costume and posse in tow. The rest of the group milled about, giggling about the outrage. Others were still nervous. The new managers could here strange whispers coming from the chorus and ballet girls…

"I have a note for you," Madame Bespoke said calmly.

Monsieur Grouse sighed deeply and rubbed his hand against his face, seeming to know whom the note was from. "Goodbye, gentlemen. I wish you good luck; if you should need me, I'll be in Dublin."

He left quickly, and the fresh managers were afraid as to what they got themselves into.

"What is it?" Monsieur Scapegrace asked gruffly, taking a note from Madame Bespoke's hand. It was just a plain envelope, though it was sealed with a threatening red wax skull seal. He broke the seal and read the note aloud so Monsieur Thrasher could hear it as well:

"_Messieurs Thrasher and Scapegrace,_

_I welcome you to this humble opera house, and I trust you will be as cooperative as Monsieur Grouse. I command that you continue to keep my personal box, box number five, open for me and me alone. I also expect my salary soon. _

_I feel we shall be in touch…_

_Your obedient servant, _

_O.G." _

"Who?" Monsieur Scapegrace wondered angrily.

The whole crew began chattering instantly; some were laughing; some were whispering in fright.

Madame Bespoke gave them no answer. She merely raised an eyebrow and strode back to take a place by her daughter.

There was a moment of silence until Monsieur Scapegrace burst out, "We'll have to refund a full house! Thrasher! This is a disaster!"

Thrasher tried to contribute, but others cut him short shouting and arguing, but a clear and sharp voice cut over the rest of them, "Stephanie Daaé could sing it, Monsieur," Madame Bespoke said. "She has been taking lessons from a great tutor…"

"Who? Who?"

Stephanie looked up slowly, and she shrugged. "I have no idea, actually. He's never told me his name."

"Oh good Go-"

"Go on, go on," Madame Bespoke urged her.

Stephanie stepped up a few feet, and she nodded when the conductor instructed her to restart _Think of Me_.

The music began, and Stephanie began to sing…

"_Think of me, think of me fondly,  
when we've said goodbye.  
Remember me once in a while -  
please promise me you'll try.  
When you find that, once again, you long  
to take your heart back and be free -  
if you ever find a moment,  
spare a thought for me._"

The music swelled, but the conductor cut it short, already aware that she would be the next star. The new managers were quite pleased with this new discovery, it seemed.

"_We never said our love was evergreen,  
or as unchanging as the sea -  
but if you can still remember  
stop and think of me . . ._"

Stephanie sang proudly and perfectly on the stage that very same night, fully aware of every pair of eyes on her…all except for one…_  
_

"_Think of all the things  
we've shared and seen -  
don't think about the way things  
might have been . . ._

_Think of me, think of me waking,  
silent and resigned.  
Imagine me, trying too hard  
to put you from my mind.  
Recall those days  
look back on all those times,  
think of the things we'll never do -  
there will never be a day,  
when I won't think of you . . ."_

A man sitting in one of the most elegant of boxes in the house suddenly recognized the woman singing. He knew…he knew it must have been her!

This man had been named the new patron for the house. He had arrived earlier and had missed all the fuss after the backdrop fell. He knew a new girl had taken over the lead role, but he would never have guessed it be…her!

Fletcher Renn stood up and quickly exited his box and descended the steps to the outside, singing under his breath the whole way:

"_Can it be? Can it be Stephanie?  
Bravo!  
Long ago, it seems so long ago  
How young and innocent we were...  
She may not remember me,  
but I remember her..._"

Stephanie noticed the suddenly empty box, swearing she had seen her old…friend there a moment, but she continued on with the song:

"_Flowers fades,  
The fruits of summer fade,  
They have their seasons, so do we  
but please promise me, that sometimes  
you will think of me!_"

She belted out the last note with pleasure and great strength, smiling and laughing silently at the sudden and strange attention.

She turned to see her friend, Tanith, behind the curtains, silently mocking her singing. Stephanie laughed and turned back to the cheering audience. She noticed Messieurs Thrasher and Scapegrace applauding enthusiastically with the rest of the crowd. The backstage crew all clapped, too. Stephanie smiled and blew a kiss to the audience, and she abruptly became the newest opera star in the span of a simple night.

And so somewhere, deep below _The Opera Populaire_ that same mysterious and darkly dressed man smiled softly, knowing it had worked.

* * *

THIS IS CHEESY.

I don't care.

I just kinda want to have some fun with this, that's all. I don't think this should last that long, so maybe it'll just be a little fun project to get my creative juices flowing again XD

If you find this ridiculous and stupid, I frankly don't really care. This is just a silly story I want to do. Sure, it's not my own idea, but I'm adding a few little changes, and I'm changing around the characters around, obviously. This is based off of the musical **Phantom of the Opera**. I don't really know when it takes place in the SP universe, but there won't really be an spoilers for Dark Days or Mortal Coil, so no worries.

Thanks for reading and sorry for any mistakes! :DDD


	2. Chapter 2

Madame Bespoke and Tanith led Stephanie through the thick crowd loitering around the Prima Donna's room. They all screamed excitedly when they noticed Stephanie, and they tried to get a few words with her, but she simply laughed at their obsession with her, and allowed herself to be dragged into the room with Tanith.

"_Bravi, bravi, bravissimi_," a ghostly voice called out softly and only for Stephanie's ears the moment the two friends stepped into the room. Stephanie shivered silently at the strange voice.

"Oh, Stephanie!" Tanith began shouting in a mocking voice. "You're sooo great! I can't believe it!"

Stephanie threw a brush at her. "Oh, shush!" she said good-naturedly. "It's not my fault I'm just so considerably more awesome than you."

"I think it's just that really great teacher you got there," Tanith said. "He's the one who should get all the credit. He turned that ear-splitting shriek into a nice little song."

Stephanie scoffed at this remark and crossed her arms.

Tanith laughed, but then suddenly changed her tune:

"_Really, you were perfect  
I only wish I knew your secret  
__Who__ is your great tutor?_"

Stephanie shrugged and ducked behind the folding screen to change into something less dress-y.

"Tanith," she said, "do you remember when I'd bang away at the piano, and Father would tell me that an Angel of Music was watching over me and would help me get better?"

"What? Are you saying that this teacher guy is literally an 'Angel of Music'?"

"Well…yeah."

Stephanie again shivered at the thought of the man's gentle voice, and she began to sing:

"_Father once spoke of an angel  
I used to dream he'd appear  
Now as I sing, I can sense him  
And I know he's here  
Here in this room he calls me softly  
Somewhere inside hiding  
Somehow I know he's always with me  
He, the unseen genius!_"

Tanith responded:

"_Really, you must have been dreaming  
Stories like this can't come true  
Steph'nie, you are talking in riddles  
And it's not like you!_"

"_Angel of Music  
Guide and guardian  
Grant to me your glory!_

_Angel of Music  
Hide no longer  
Secret and strange angel!_"

Tanith stopped her singing and stared at her friend and said, "Your face! It's white!"

"I'm just…freaked out."

"Don't be! This isn't real. This angel isn't real, Stephanie."

"But he is, Tanith! I've heard him! He speaks to me all the time."

Tanith sighed sadly at her friend. Was she _insane_ or something? She almost responded to her friend's ravings, but there was a polite knock on the door. Tanith went to get the door, and she gasped when she realized it was the opera's patron.

"Could I see Miss Stephanie alone a moment?" Fletcher Renn asked smoothly, presenting a bouquet of flowers for the new star.

Tanith nodded and fled the doorway but vowed to convince Stephanie that this angel wasn't real.

Stephanie turned to look at the man in the doorway.

"Little Valerie, I see," Fletcher began. "I had always wondered if we'd cross paths again."

"Oh…Fletcher!" Stephanie cried out excitedly as she suddenly realized who was speaking. "You're the patron? This is crazy! Oh my gosh, this is fantastic! I can't believe it! It's really you, isn't it, Fletcher?"

Fletcher laughed and gripped her tightly and hugged her. "Yes, the perfectly respectable gentleman, Monsieur Fletcher Renn, the richest bachelor in France."

"Gentleman don't brag," Stephanie scolded.

"Oh, forgive, fair maiden!"

Stephanie laughed. "I had no idea you were here. This is so…"

"Amazing? Fantastic? Marvelous? I must say the you singing really awesome thing turned out better than expected. I had no idea you had such a voice. Care to go and celebrate?"

"Wait, wha-"

"I shall be outside waiting for you, Little Valerie!" Fletcher suddenly said happily, jumping up and bounding towards the door, his stylish coattails flying a bit behind him. "I'd love to get to catch up with you, Little Valerie."

Stephanie smiled uneasily, suddenly remembering Fletcher's abruptness and tendency to jump to conclusions. Fletcher shut the door, and Stephanie immediately began to dress again. Good Lord, she didn't feel like going out after performing! Maybe she could convince him to stay there…Her hand grasped a gorgeous dress, and she began to gather some accessories, but the lights suddenly went out in the room. Stephanie glared at the candles, waiting to see if she could feel a draft som-

"_Insolent boy, this slave of fashion  
basking in your glory!_

_Ignorant fool!  
This brave young suitor,  
sharing in my triumph!_" a voice suddenly rang out all around the room. The voice was smooth and harsh at the same time. It was angry with Monsieur Renn, but then it was congratulating her for a splendid performance.

And Stephanie instantly knew who it was. She sang: _  
_  
"_Angel, I hear you.  
Speak - I listen . . .  
stay by my side,  
guide me._

_Angel, my soul was weak -  
forgive me . . .  
enter at last,  
Master._"_  
_

Her Angel of Music responded,

"_Flattering child, you shall know me,  
see why in shadow I hide._

_Look at your face in the mirror -  
I am there inside!_"

"_Angel of Music,  
Guide and guardian,  
Grant to me your  
glory._

_Angel of Music,  
Hide no longer.  
Come to me, strange  
Angel..._"

Instead of singing, really, her Angel beckoned gently, urging her to come forward:

"_I am your Angel of Music...  
Come to me: Angel of Music ..._"

Fletcher had suddenly returned that moment, and upon hearing the strange male voice in the room, he tried to get in, but he found the door mysteriously locked. He shouted, "Who is that voice? Who's in there?"

"_I am your Angel of Music..._"

Fletcher tried calling again, but it was vain, for dear Stephanie was in a trance. She dropped the dress and items on the floor, stepping around to see the large mirror on the wall. There was a man there! Darkly dressed, bowing, with his hand held out for her to grab. She could feel cool fog surrounding her, and she suddenly felt complete relief. Her Angel of Music! It was he!

"Come to me: Angel of Music…"

Stephanie took one more step and entered the mirror. She grasped the gloved hand of her Angel, and then the world was as it should be.

* * *

This is SO much fun. I love doing this thing.

Thanks for reading and sorry for any mistakes! :DDD


	3. Chapter 3

Stephanie's Angel gripped her hand delicately and placed a kiss on it, and there was suddenly a strong organ filling their ears. Stephanie wasn't sure if it was real or not, but she could certainly hear it.

She looked around the narrow tunnel that led from the room and mirror to some deep mysterious place. It was damp and rather dark, but this man had a fire going on a torch, it seemed.

Stephanie instantly knew she should sing. This was her angel…her Angel of Music…The Phantom of the Opera…Stephanie opened her mouth and sang loudly:

"_In sleep he sang to me  
In dreams he came  
That voice which calls to me and speaks my name  
And do I dream again for now I find  
The Phantom of the Opera is there  
Inside my mind."_

He responded after hearing her beautiful verse come to a close:

"_Sing once again with me  
Our strange duet  
My power over you grows stronger yet  
And though you turn from me to glance behind  
The Phantom of the Opera is there  
Inside your mind._"_  
_  
Now they had reached a bottom of a dirty staircase covered in mold. A murky lake with different tunnels and caverns and passages led in all different directions, and there was a small black gondola with golden pillows and a lantern in the front. The Phantom, still holding her hand, led Stephanie to settle in the front of the boat, while he stood in the back and steered the transport with a long stick.

Stephanie joined in again:

"_Those who have seen your face  
Draw back in fear  
I am the mask you wear._"

"_It's me they hear..._"

Now they both sang in unison, with Stephanie singing:

"_My spirit and your voice in one combined  
The Phantom of the Opera is there  
Inside my mind!_"

While the Phantom sang along with her:

"_Your spirit and my voice in one combined  
The Phantom of the Opera is there  
Inside your mind_!"

A ghostly chorus joined in with the strange music:

"_He's there, the phantom of the opera!_"

"_He's there, the phantom of the opera!_" Stephanie resonated against the brick walls, staring at the multiple statues and paintings found in the bowels of the house.

Still steering, the Phantom sang:

"_In all your fantasies, you always knew  
that man and mystery…_"

"_...were both in you…_"

The two sang aloud together:

"_And in this labyrinth,  
where night is blind,  
the Phantom of the Opera  
is there/here inside your/my mind…_"

Suddenly in front of them, a large brick wall began to lift up, revealing a small alcove, still hidden by a huge wrought iron gate. The gate began lifting as well, and the Phantom continued to drive the boat into the lair while shouting, "Sing, my Angel of Music!"

Stephanie heard and understood the command, and she took a deep breath and sang loudly:

"_He's there,  
the Phantom of the Opera…_"

She then began to cry out a series of Ahs, all high and impressive and pleasing to the Phantom, the Angel, the man.

"Sing, Sing  
Sing for me  
Sing, my Angel of music  
Sing for me!" the Phantom shouted, pulling the boat to a stop on the shore as Stephanie belted out the very last note.

A serene silence followed as the echoes of Stephanie's ending note died out against the old walls of the lair. She remained in the boat, in a trance, and watched the Phantom step around her gracefully and land on the shores.

He was dressed completely in black. He had a thick black cloak on that covered his whole body, along with a black fedora style hat on his head, and a black scarf covering his whole face.

The Phantom did not face her as he unclasped his cape and threw it dramatically on the ground. His skinny arms and gloved hands traveled to his neck where he adjusted something, and then he suddenly removed the scarf and hat and sent them into the pile with the cloak.

The Phantom turned to face Stephanie, and she smiled at his face, and he smiled back slightly.

His hair was as black as his suit, which had a gray vest underneath the elegant jacket. The hair reached down his neck, and was slicked back into a hard helmet on his head. His skin was a pale cream color, with a sharp nose, jaw, cheekbones, and emerald green eyes. He raised a thick eyebrow at her staring but decided to say nothing. The Phantom beckoned to her, and she began to get up, but the boat wobbled. However, her Angel was there in a moment and grasped her waist, steadying her. Stephanie's breath hitched at the gentle and intimate touch, and she allowed herself to be carried bridal style to the shore.

She gazed around the lair for a few moments. She saw sandy colored stone walls, and candelabras were scattered everywhere; some hung from the ceiling; some hung from the walls; some just stood around. Hats and pieces of suits were thrown everywhere, along with different colored scarves. Papers with scribbles and quills dirtied with ink littered the floor. And sitting grandly in the middle of this all was a grand organ. It was sleek and smooth, with its keys worn out from extensive use. More papers with notes and full songs written on them were sitting carelessly on the bench and lid of the organ.

The Phantom noticed her observations, but he quickly grasped her hands and began singing:

"_Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation  
Darkness stirs and wakes imagination  
Silently the senses abandon their defenses._

_Slowly, gently night unfurls its splendor  
Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender  
Turn your face away from the garish light of day  
Turn your thoughts away from cold unfeeling light  
And listen to the music of the night_."

His black-gloved hands covered her eyes from the light, but they left them quickly and trailed down her neck to rest at her ribcage, never touching anything else.

"_Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams  
Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before  
Close your eyes let your spirit start to soar  
And you'll live as you've never lived before!_"

He released her and twirled around, climbing some steps gracefully and smoothly. He turned to face her, and he bowed to her. His one hand hung limply in front of his face, while the other seemed to sensually beckon her towards him with one long pointer finger. His leather-clad hands touched Stephanie's smooth cheeks gently, and he began singing again:

"_Softly, deftly, music shall surround you  
Feel it, hear it, closing in around you  
Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind in this darkness that you know you cannot fight  
The darkness of the music of the night_!

_Let your mind start to journey through a strange new world  
Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before  
Let your soul take you where you long to be!_"

He released her soft face and again climbed a few more steps, bringing his arms out in a flash and holding them open, like he was asking for a hug. With slight flicks of his hands, half of the candles in the room blew out. Stephanie was in most of the dark, but she soon felt cool hands on her waist, slowly leading her away.

"_Only then can you belong to me!_  
_Floating, falling, sweet intoxication  
Touch me, trust me savor each sensation  
Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in to the power of the music that I write  
The power of the music of the night!_"

The Phantom continued to lead her away from the main area, and he finally stopped at a dimly lit corner. Regal lavender curtains covered up a section of wall, and he pulled a tassel that revealed a large painting.

The painting was a beautiful portrait of Miss Stephanie Daaé.

Stephanie gasped at the artwork, both amazed at its beauty and scared of how detailed it was. He had managed to place every little freckle, mole, scar, blemish, and imperfection in its proper place. Stephanie realized that the Phantom had been watching her for years, and the feeling that he had been doing so overwhelmed her, and she collapsed. The Phantom was there, though, to catch her and keep her safe. He carried her a few more feet to an oval shaped bed with cream-colored satin sheets and gold and black pillows. He laid her gently onto the bed and removed free strands of hair from her face. He sang quietly and powerfully to her still:

"_You alone can make my song take flight  
Help me make the music of the night!_"

The Phantom of Opera pulled curtains tightly around the bed, and he tiptoed away, not wanting to wake his precious angel.

* * *

I LOVE WRITING THIS.

Thanks for reading and sorry for any mistakes! :DD


	4. Chapter 4

I am SO glad you guys like this. It motivates me to keep going with this silly project and try and make it awesome :3

* * *

Stephanie Daaé awoke to soft music coming from a music box with a skeleton holding a scythe atop it. The chimes from the box were sad and gentle; though they had a mismatched fast beat about them. Stephanie climbed from the satin bed and noticed the common theme of black and skeletons. She padded from the bedroom and past a wall covered with curtains, her mind wandering and grasping around to remember what exactly had happened. Stephanie sang calmly:

"_I remember there was mist  
swirling mist upon a vast, glassy lake  
There were candles all around,  
and on the lake there was a boat,  
and in the boat there was a man!_"

She kept walking through the dark lair until she saw a thin and tall man sitting straight at an organ. He turned at the sound of her voice, and his thin lips turned upright slightly.

"You have awoken," he said simply.

Stephanie avoided his eyes and nodded. "I have."

The Phantom, she remembered, got up from his organ and walked deliberately towards her.

"Give me your hand," he said. Stephanie obeyed. "I hate to see my dearest Angel so upset and frightened of me. I will not hurt you." He caressed her delicate hand, and she felt a vague wave of calmness wash over her.

"Who exactly are you?" Stephanie asked, trying to appear confident in front of her brave teacher. He had her seated in a comfortable plush chair near a bookcase lined completely with books and papers.

"I am your Angel of Music," he responded coolly, handing her a cup of hot tea. "I am also that incredibly elusive Phantom of the Opera everyone seems to fear so much."

"Do you have a name? And why is everyone afraid of you?"

"I do have a name, and everyone thinks I kill the innocent for fun. Also I do have some maniacal tendencies, but don't tell anyone that."

Stephanie laughed slightly. "Do you kill the innocent?" Again, she was trying to appear as at ease as the Phantom, but her eyes still showed fear.

"No, no." He paused. "Only the guilty."

Stephanie frowned and sipped the tea cautiously. "Well so, what is your name?"

"You may refer to me as the Phantom, Angel, or Skulduggery Pleasant."

"Skulduggery Pleasant? Where did you get that?"

"I…ran away from home and that was the name given to me by my…caretakers. It is a horribly depressing and morbid story; I would not want to bore you or disturb you, darling Stephanie. There is no need for that."

She shrugged and kept drinking the tea. "Why do you live down here? I mean, pardon me, I-"

"The questions are no intrusion, dearest. I live down here because I really want to. I never felt much of a connection with anyone above this opera house, and the time I spent outdoors was never enjoyable."

"Why me?"

The Phantom was taken aback. "You are perfect," he replied plainly. He kept his face level as she stared at him intently from across from him.

They sat in silence for a while, and the Phantom _had_ been hoping for Stephanie to climb from her shell and reveal her true personality to him. But no – she continued to sit daintily in the chair, sipping the tea, and looking around the dark den, never daring to say anything else.

He jerked his head forward at a sudden sound, supposedly, but Stephanie heard nothing. Skulduggery sighed softly, but he quickly smiled and held out a hand, bowing. Stephanie set the cup and saucer down and took the hand.

"It is time I returned you back to your rightful place in this opera. I very much wish you will want to see me again, my Stephanie," the Phantom said. "I shall always be with you, and so I will always know what you are saying. Perhaps we can meet later."

She simply nodded.

He led her back towards the lake part and nested her into the front of the gondola. He wrapped the scarf back around his face and placed the hat on his head, and he fiddled with something at his neck and then climbed gracefully into the boat. He steered the ferry back to the path leading to Stephanie's room. Skulduggery assisted her from climbing from the boat and quickly led her back to the mirror passage. The tunnel was now dark, but Stephanie realized suddenly that he had conjured up a flame on a torch without her noticing.

They reached the mirror and Skulduggery opened the sliding door for Stephanie to step through.

"Until later, my dear," he whispered, and he kissed her hand. Stephanie leaped through the mirror and quickly turned to see the Phantom again, but he was completely gone. Stephanie took a deep breath and exhaled.

Suddenly she realized that she had probably been missing for long! Oh Lord! What if Tanith had gotten worried and called someone about it? Or Fletcher? Oh goodness, they were supposed to meet up. Stephanie placed a hand to her forehead and decided it would be better to just suck it up and race out there to see what was happening. She judged that it was late afternoon, and they must have been running _Hannibal_ with an understudy. She exited the room and crashed into someone that very instant.

"Stephanie!" Madame Bespoke cried out in surprise. The instructor grabbed her arm and dragged through the house, keeping to the shadows, and stopped when they reached her own room. Madame Bespoke slammed the door and rounded on Stephanie.

"Where have you been?"

Stephanie hesitated, unsure if she should tell the truth. "I…I got lost."

Madame Bespoke would not have that. "You are lying, I can tell." She paused. "You seem…scared."

"I am not scared," Stephanie said breathlessly, determined to show a brave face. "I am…shaking…because I am so cold."

"It is warm out."

"I was…I – I –"

"He stole you away, did not he?" Madame Bespoke asked solemnly.

Stephanie did not speak for a moment but nodded instead. "My Angel…The Phantom…_Skulduggery Pleasant_."

Madame Bespoke looked at her adoptive daughter with sympathy. That man had taken her away, and it was his intent to keep her. Madame Bespoke knew of what he was capable of. He could kill, hurt, lie, cheat, steal, _hypnotize_…

"Sleep," Madame Bespoke commanded. "You must rest. I shall see they know of your return."

Stephanie nodded and allowed herself to be led to the soft bed in the corner. She lay down softly and was instantly asleep.

Madame Bespoke left the room and went to find the managers. She took a few steps, but she suddenly stepped on a piece of paper.

It was a note.

* * *

Monsieur Scapegrace entered _The Opera Populaire _grandly and removed his coat, handing it to the servants. He pulled a few papers from his pocket and began singing:

"'_Mystery after gala night,' it says, 'mystery of sopranos flight'.  
'Mystified,' all the papers say, 'we are mystified. We suspect foul play!'  
Bad news on soprano scene  
First Carlotta, now Christine.  
Still at least the seats get sold,  
Gossip's worth its weight in gold.  
What a way to run a business  
Spare me these unending trials  
Half your cast disappears  
But the crowd still cheers  
Opera!  
To hell with Gluck and Handel  
It's a scandal that'll pack 'em in the aisles!_"

He climbed the steps and was standing at a balcony when a door blew open and his partner, Monsieur Thrasher, burst into the hall. He sang loudly and frantically:

"_Damnable!  
Will they all walk out?  
This is damnable!_"

"_Thrasher, please don't shout  
It's publicity and the take is vast  
Free publicity_!"_  
_

"_But we have no cast!_"

"_Thrasher have you seen the queue  
Ah, it seems you've got one too._"

Monsieur Scapegrace pointed to the yellowed paper in his friend's hands. Thrasher shook his head and sighed and began reading the mysterious note:_  
_  
_"'Dear Thrasher what a charming gala,  
Christine was in a word sublime  
We were hardly bereft when Miss China left  
Otherwise, the chorus was entrancing,  
But the dancing was a lamentable mess!'_"

Scapegrace frowned and read his own note:

_"'Dear Scapegrace just a brief reminder;  
My salary has not been paid  
Send it care of the ghost  
By return of post  
P.T.O No one likes a debtor so it's better if my orders are obeyed!'_"

Together the two managers sang:

"_Who would have the gall to send this?  
Someone with a puerile brain  
These are both signed O.G  
Who the hell is he?  
Opera Ghost!_"

"_It is nothing short of shocking,_" Monsieur Scapegrace sang.

"_He is mocking our position,_" Monsieur Thrasher added in.

"_In addition he wants money._"

"_What a funny apparition!_"

And then together they both sang:

"_To expect a large retainer  
Nothing plainer  
He is clearly quite insane!_"

Swiftly the grand front doors burst open and Monsieur Fletcher Renn stormed in, dressed in an elegant suit, waving his own note around crazily. He shouted and sang:

"_Where is she?_"

"_You mean Miss China?_"

"_I mean Miss Daaé.  
Where is she?_"

"_Well how should we know?_"

"_I want an answer  
I take it that you sent me this note!_" Fletcher responded angrily, thrusting the note towards Monsieur Thrasher.

Thrasher looked at the paper and shook his head frantically and sang:

"_What all this nonsense?  
Of course not!_"

"_Don't look at us!_"

"_She's not with you then?_"

"_Of course not!_"

"_We're in the dark!_"

Fletcher groaned and finally slapped the note into Monsieur Thrasher's hands and cried:

"_Monsieur don't argue  
Isn't this the letter you wrote?_"

"_And what is that we're meant to have wrote?_  
...Written!"

Monsieur Thrasher looked at the parchment and read it aloud:

"_'Do not fear for Miss Daaé  
The Angel of Music has her under his wing  
Make no attempt to see her again._"_  
_  
Fletcher sighed and said, "If you didn't write it then who did?"

And then again, the front doors burst open, and Miss China Giudicelli ran in, clutching furs and purses and a note of her own and she screamed:

"_Where is he?_"

"Ah, welcome back!" Monsieur Scapegrace called happily.

"_Where is he?  
Your precious patron  
Where is he?_" Miss China continued to screech, hitting unnecessary high notes.

Fletcher knitted his brows and asked, "_What is it now?_"

"_I have your letter  
A letter that which I rather resent!_" Miss China responded and thrust the letter in the patron's face.

"_And did you send it?_" Monsieur Scapegrace asked quickly.

"_Of course not!_" Fletcher yelled.

"_As if he would!_" Monsieur Thrasher replied, backing his patron.

"_You didn't send it?_" Miss China asked, not believing their words.

"_Of course not!_"

"_What's going on?_" asked Monsieur Scapegrace. With the quickened pace of the conversation, he had gotten lost in who was shouting what.

Miss China shrieked with rage and threw the paper at Fletcher. She sang loudly and angrily:

"_You dare to tell me  
That this is not the letter you sent?_"

Fletcher opened the note and read it aloud:

"_And what is it that I'm meant to have sent?  
'Your days at the Opera Populaire are numbered.  
Steph'nie Daaé will be singing on your behalf now on.  
Be prepared for a great misfortune should you attempt to take her place.'_"

The managers noticed Miss China's face growing redder and redder and realized they had to calm her before she completely left for good. They shared a glance and began singing softly to her, taking both her arms gently:

"_Far too many notes for my taste  
And most of them about Steph'nie  
All we've heard since we came  
Is Miss Daaé's name!_"

The two had begun to lead her to the dressing rooms to prepare for a performance, but Madame Bespoke and Tanith were standing at the top of the stairs quietly, watching everything unfold. Madame Bespoke held _another_ note in her hands.

"_Miss Daaé has returned,_" she sang simply.

"_I trust her midnight oil is well and truly burned,_" Monsieur Scapegrace answered dryly.

"_Where precisely is she now?_" Monsieur Thrasher asked, anxious.

"_I thought it best she was alone,_" Madame Bespoke responded.

And Tanith added quietly:

"_She needed rest!_"

"_May I see her?_" Fletcher asked fretfully.

"_No, Monsieur, she will see no one._"

"_Will she sing?  
Will she sing?_" Miss China asked loudly, worried for herself and only herself.

Madame Bespoke sighed and held out the paper and said, "Here I have a note."

Everyone immediately shouted, "Let me see it!"

Monsieur Scapegrace climbed the last few steps and took the letter from her hands. He read it aloud:

"_'Gentlemen, I have now sent you several notes of the most amiable nature detailing how my Opera House is to be run  
You have ignored my orders...'_"

A new voice seemed to take over Monsieur Scapegrace's, but it was so subtle and so quiet, no one was sure if it was someone different…_  
_  
The Phantom, having heard all of this, felt complied to alert them all of his presence:

"_...I shall give you one last chance  
Miss Stephanie has returned to you  
And I am anxious her career should progress  
In the new production of Il Muto  
You will therefore cast Miss China as the page boy  
And put Miss Daaé in the role of Countess  
The role which Miss Daaé plays calls for charm and appeal  
The role of the page boy is silent which makes my casting in a word, ideal  
I shall watch the performance from my normal seat in box 5 which will be kept empty for me  
Should these commands be ignored a disaster beyond your imagination will occur  
I remain, gentlemen, your obedient servant  
O.G._"_  
_  
Miss China flailed and threw her arms out in exasperation, shouting, "_Stephanie!_"

"_What ever next?_"

"_It's all a ploy to help Stephanie!_"

"_This is insane!_" Monsieur Scapegrace shouted.

Miss China shouted again:

"_I know who sent this  
This Fletcher, her lover!_"

Fletcher responded heatedly, "_Indeed, can you believe this?_"

Miss China shrieked at the patron, and she stormed away, preparing to leave. But Messieurs Thrasher and Scapegrace followed after her, attempting to calm her, praising her, trying _anything_ to keep her with them. Miss China wrenched open the doors, and they were all quickly met with excited shouts and cries from a huge crowed outside, all offering gifts and flowers to Miss Stephanie. Miss China glared and snarled at them all, but before she could respond, Monsieur Scapegrace closed the door.

"Your public needs you," Monsieur Thrasher said calmly.

"We need you, too," Monsieur Scapegrace included.

"Would you not rather have your precious little ingénue?" Miss China asked jealously, her lip curling.

"But Messieurs," Madame Bespoke cried out, "we cannot disobey the Opera Ghost! You cannot have Miss China as Countess and Miss Stephanie as the page boy!"

Monsieur Scapegrace had announced that previously. "We do not take orders, Madame," he said briskly and nodded to Monsieur Thrasher.

"Ach, doesn't everyone want your precious Stephanie?" Miss China snarled.

Monsieur Scapegrace and Thrasher looked at each other and began singing:

"_Signora no! The World wants you  
Prima Donna first lady of the stage  
Your devotees are on their knees to implore you!_"_  
_  
"_Can you bow out when they're shouting your name?_" Monsieur Thrasher asked as he began leading her away from the door.

And Monsieur Scapegrace added:

"_Think of how they all adore you!_"

Together they sang:

"_Prima Donna enchant us once again!_"

Miss China finally accepted and allowed them to shower her with gifts and praise. As the managers led her into her normal Prima Donna room, the sang along, too:

"_Prima Donna your song shall never die  
You'll sing again and to unending ovation!_"

Fletcher refused to follow the group and instead went off on his own, lamenting about his Little Valerie and the strange and disobeyed demands of the Phantom.

"_Order, warnings, lunatic!_" he sang loudly.

"_Think how you'll sing in that final encore!_" Miss China triumphantly screeched as they prepared her costume for the role of Countess.

Messieurs Scapegrace and Thrasher gathered together and sang, "_Sing Prima Donna once more!_

_Who'd believe a diva happy to relieve  
A chorus girl whose gone and slept with the patron?  
Raoul and the soubrette, entwined in love's duet!  
Although he may demur, he must have been with her!_

_You'd never get away with all this in a play,  
but if it's loudly sung and in a foreign tongue  
It's just the sort of story audiences adore, in fact a perfect opera!_"_  
_

Every person from _The Opera Populaire_ had gathered in the theater now, and they all sang simultaneously,

"_Prima Donna the world is at your feet  
A nation waits, and how it hates to be cheated!  
Still, the driest throat will reach the highest note  
Sing Prima Donna  
Once more!_"

In the unwatched box number five, a figure dressed in black stormed away, overcome with anger at their denial.

So as Stephanie readied herself for performing _Il Muto _as the Pageboy weeks later, she slipped behind the curtain to put on her costume when she suddenly felt a draft and could hear a soft humming coming from a corner of the room.

"_Dearest Angel, Stephanie_," the Phantom sang quietly. He stepped around from behind a bit of wall, and Stephanie was so surprised she didn't pause to think of how in the world he had gotten there.

The Phantom was completely dressed in black again, with a scarf covering his whole face, but Stephanie could tell he was staring at her intently when he said, "Prepare for a disaster, love."

* * *

Again, I'm glad you all really like this.

ALSO. I had thought that **Phantom of the Opera** was no longer running on Broadway in America here, but it turns out it is! I'm so excited! My sister got to see **Wicked** when she turned 16, so in a year I want to go see **Phantom **for my 16th!

And if you want a taste of the music I'm listening to while writing this (or the music I'm imagining them singing XD) go to **www(dot)grooveshark(dot)com **and search for **Phantom of the Opera London cast**. It should come up, then.

Thanks for reading and sorry for any mistakes! :DDD


	5. Chapter 5

"Prepare for a disaster, love."

Stephanie gasped. "What?"

"I informed those brainless managers what would happen if they didn't follow my instructions," Skulduggery said simply. "They have failed to do so by casting you as the Pageboy and that idiot China as Countess."

"Wait, really? Why?"

"I said in the notes I sent to them that I wish to see your career progress. Standing around as a silent male while a horrible woman takes the spot light will not help you at all."

Stephanie frowned. "Well…what kind of disaster? What were you going to do?"

Skulduggery paused. "I…I was going to completely ruin Miss China's career, to be honest, by giving her a medication that makes her croak like the ugly toad she is. Also bring down that beloved chandelier."

She gasped in horror. "Why would you do such a thing? What…Why?"

"It's for you, my dear."

"But I don't mind!"

"I do, however."

"But the only way I would get Countess would be if you _did_ do those things," Stephanie pointed out. "It was not their choice to cast me. They would only place me in that role because they're terrified."

The Phantom was taken aback. He…admittedly had not considered this! Perhaps she had a valid point…

"Very well," he muttered, defeated by his student. "I shall let this performance go without a horribly devastating disaster. Perhaps…perhaps I shall…" He trailed off and shook his head. "I will expect to see a wonderful, yet silent, performance from my beautiful Stephanie tonight," he said warmly all of a sudden. "I would like to celebrate afterward, dear."

Stephanie nodded uneasily, wondering what he was thinking of doing to Miss China. He had a few hours before the actual opening performance to concoct a plan. She watched him nod a goodbye and suddenly drop through the floor. Stephanie shrieked in surprise and ran to the spot where he was previously standing; the carpet was completely normal. She gave a quiet laugh to her maniacal friend, and she continued to dress after.

Hours later, Stephanie realized exactly what the Phantom had done.

"A frog, a frog, a frog!" Miss China screamed and screamed and screamed. "He was **there**! He was in **there**! **There, there, there, there**!" She pointed menacingly to a jewelry box. Monsieur Scapegrace approached the box cautiously, and he wrenched open the lid, and true enough, a humongous frog scampered away. Everyone screamed and jumped and began flailing around. Stephanie laughed a little when she noticed Miss China standing a chair, half clothed in her huge costume, cowering in fear.

The actual performance, though, continued without any disasters, as promised. Stephanie executed her actions and movements without flaw, and Miss China did not croak once. As they bowed, Stephanie cast her eyes to look at box five. She saw Fletcher there, standing and clapping wildly. His eyes lit up at her glance, and he smiled warmly, giving her the thumbs up. She smiled back, but her eyes suddenly caught a vague black figure moving behind Fletcher. He had not noticed him, but Stephanie did.

Tanith and Stephanie exited the stage and skipped freely back to their dressing rooms when the opera was done, but they suddenly bumped into a man.

"Oh, I'm so sorr-" Stephanie stopped short when she realized whom she had bumped into. "Oh goodness!" she exclaimed and quickly straightened her hair.

The Phantom of the Opera laughed heartily, and this sound was strange to Stephanie. "My Stephanie, you needn't do that," he said calmly. "Haven't we known each other for far too long?" His warm smile infected her, and she began smiling too. "Who is your friend?"

"Oh!" Stephanie breathed sharply. "This is Tanith, my best friend."

"Ah, I feel rather offended," Fletcher Renn said loudly from behind them. He reached out to embrace Stephanie. "You were simply stupendous, Little Valerie."

The Phantom stiffened. "Miss Tanith – pleased to meet you. And you, Monsieur…?"

Fletcher smiled lightly. "Fletcher Renn. Yourself, sir?"

"Lucas Mallory, if you please," the Phantom said, easily slipping into an alias.

Stephanie watched as Skulduggery's green eyes flickered with anger as their hands joined to shake.

"And it's lovely to see you again, Miss Tanith," Fletcher added.

Tanith nodded. "Ah, most certainly."

Stephanie looked between Fletcher and Skulduggery. Fletcher was smiling sincerely, but his eyes seemed cold. Skulduggery folded his arms across his chest and smirked.

"How long have you known Stephanie?" asked Fletcher.

"My father and her father were friends," Skulduggery responded smoothly. "I am slightly older, so I admit, I always found her a bit childish, but she was always a lovely girl. My father moved us to Ireland after her own father died, and I have not seen her since. I'm actually quite surprised you still remember me."

Stephanie laughed. "You made quite the impression, though, Lucas."

"Shall we head somewhere else?" Tanith suggested suddenly, the only one noticing they were all standing around tensely in the hallway.

"Oh, wise words," Skulduggery announced. "Perhaps the Prima Donna's room?"

"I believe Miss China would be in there," Fletcher cut in.

"Ah, no, I personally saw her come running and screaming past me, screaming about locusts in her room and the Plagues of Egypt…And after all, I had thought that Miss Stephanie would have gotten Countess and not Miss China. I fully believe that should be her room."

Stephanie shifted uneasily. "A-Ah, alright. Shall we?"

She and Tanith led the way to the room. Stephanie sneaked a glance back and saw Fletcher and Skulduggery casually strolling behind them. Skulduggery was even humming. His humming made Stephanie go vaguely weak! They entered the grand room, and everyone took a seat.

Fletcher managed to slip into the spot next to Stephanie on a couch, while Tanith sat uneasily in a petite chair near the same couch. Skulduggery took a seat across from the three in a large plush armchair, crossing his legs, and folding his hands.

"Your father," Fletcher said, trying to drum up conversation, "is he now an architect?"

Skulduggery shrugged. "He passed quite some time ago, but he did erect a few buildings. You may have heard of the Mallory Garnets?"

"I can't say I have."

"My father ended up striking an enormous garnet vein. We primarily worked from Ireland; that could be the issue."

Fletcher nodded. "I suppose. I would have thought my father would at least have known yours…"

Skulduggery shrugged. "Miss Tanith, you're awfully quiet, aren't you? You were quite excited up on the stage," he said again after a short time of pleasant but typical small-talk.

"I'm mostly just tired, Monsieur," she replied.

"Of course!" Skulduggery jumped up and pulled her to her feet. "We horrible men have kept you up, haven't we? I do apologize."

Tanith said that it was no problem, but Skulduggery would hear nothing of it. He insisted the two girls went to bed. Fletcher began backing him, too. Eventually, after much persuading, Tanith and Stephanie left the two to head back to their room.

"My goodness, those men really need to get a life," Tanith announced.

"Why?"

"They're obsessed with you."

"What? No!"

"Monsieur Fletcher could barely stop looking at you and neither could that weird Lucas guy. I could have sworn they were going to break out in a fistfight over you eventually. And who was that Lucas person? Was he really your childhood friend? You two didn't seem like you knew each other at all."

Stephanie bit her lip and restrained a big grin. "No," she admitted, "he's not a childhood friend. Do you want to know who he really is?"

Tanith nodded.

Stephanie looked around them quickly, but she suddenly grabbed Tanith's hand and dragged her to their room. Stephanie shut and locked the door.

"He's the Angel of Music," Stephanie whispered.

Tanith laughed. "Oh, okay, and I'm my own father."

"No, Tanith! He really is! He's also…the Phantom of the Opera."

"Alright, I'm pretty sure listening to Miss China for hours on end made you go insane," Tanith said, trying to be consoling. "You need to get to sleep."

"I had thought you were going to bed," a new voice rang out.

Tanith screamed and pivoted around to see a darkly dressed figure there. A scarf and fedora covered his face and head. She almost released a high-pitched yelp, but Stephanie clapped her hand on her mouth to stop her.

"Good evening, Miss Tanith," the Phantom said, bowing and kissing her hand. "Greetings from the Phantom of the Opera. And you, Miss Stephanie." He kissed her hand as well.

"Is this…real? What's ha…You're a ghost! You're not real!"

"I assure you I am."

"Well…how can I be sure you're the Phantom?"

"I have no document that says who I am," he answered, "so you must just take the word of your friend for proof. I am, however, 'that weird Lucas guy'. Though that is not my real name."

His hands traveled to his neck, and he again touched something there, and then he unraveled the scarf. Tanith gasped – that _was_ the same man.

"…Fine," she finally said.

"I knew you would come around."

"See?" Stephanie said excitedly. "He's real! I was _not_ lying. This is my teacher, the Phantom of the Opera, the Angel of Music, and Skulduggery Pleasant."

"Skulduggery Pleasant?"

"Another alias, Miss Tanith."

"Stephanie…this was the man…who stole you?" Tanith asked, ignoring the Phantom and turning to face her friend.

She nodded. "He took me away, yes," she said. "But Tanith, he was so kind! Gentle, caring, loving…everything! I was scared of what was going on – this man had suddenly taken me, and…he said he didn't want me sad…and that he would never hurt me."

Tanith shook her head. "Stephanie, he's dangerous."

"I do happen to still be here…"

Tanith held out a firm hand to silence him. The Phantom was taken aback but remained silent. "I…So you're openly fine with the fact that a probably insane man took you away for hours and threatened your employers! Ah, yes! He threatened! He said that if you were not cast as Countess, a disaster would occur!"

Stephanie nodded. "I know," she said, "but I convinced him to let it go. He listened, Tanith. My Angel…he cares about me, and he promised he would cause no drastic harm."

"I placed the frog and locusts everywhere," Skulduggery chimed in.

"He was originally going to drop the chandelier!"

"How awful!"

"But he didn't, Tanith," Stephanie said, pleading for her best friend to understand her. "He cares for me and wants me to be happy."

"I do want to see you, dearest Stephanie, in a more prominent role, however," he whispered.

Tanith looked to the Phantom with dark eyes, and she suddenly realized he had replaced the scarf onto his face. "Dare hurt her…and you-"

"I would never dream of it, Miss Tanith," he said quietly, his head tilted. His hands clenched angrily for a moment, but he released his grip. "If you do not mind, now, Miss Tanith, I would like to steal away Miss Stephanie again for the rest of the night."

Tanith's face contorted violently. "And do _what_?"

The Phantom straightened to an almost perfect one hundred eighty degree angle, and he held out his arm in front of him and with one finger, and he beckoned Stephanie towards him. "That is none of your business, Miss Tanith."

He bowed and offered his hand to Stephanie, who took it happily. Skulduggery locked his fingers with hers and held her arm in the crook of his, and then they suddenly disappeared through the floor.

* * *

"I'm sorry for anything Tanith said," Stephanie muttered as they walked swiftly through the damp tunnels.

The Phantom waved his hand like the previous conversation had been an obnoxious gnat. "Think nothing of it. I wish to focus on you tonight, love, and only you."

"What exactly _are_ you planning, tonight? I trust you completely, naturally, but I'm curious."

The Phantom chuckled from behind his coverings. "I honestly do not know what to do," he admitted. "I wanted to get you away from that Fletcher and Miss Tanith, actually."

"What's wrong with Fletcher?"

"Competition."

"Oh, we're childhood friends. I couldn't love him."

"I never said what kind of competition, dearest."

"Wha-" Stephanie faltered. She spent the next moment trying to form words as her Angel helped her into the gondola to bring them across the dirty lake.

"No need to finish your sentences, love," Skulduggery added sarcastically as they traveled across the water.

"What I meant was that…I had figured you were in love with me."

"Oh, you assumed you were marvelous in every way and automatically thought I was in love with you?"

"You yourself said I was perfect," Stephanie retorted, throwing his heartfelt words back at him.

He groaned at the sharp comeback. "Yes, this is true. And," he continued when he pulled the boat to the shore of the lair, "you were correct to assume I am hopelessly in love with you, Miss Stephanie."

* * *

Thanks for reading and sorry for any mistakes! :DDD


	6. Chapter 6

"_You were correct to assume I am hopelessly in love with you, Miss Stephanie." _

Stephanie almost began to shout out a quick reply, but she stopped suddenly. "O-Oh," she merely whispered.

Skulduggery laughed and helped her up. He left her standing there awkwardly and nervous as he adjusted his outfit, removing the scarf and hat, and turning to face her. His eyes lit up vaguely as he stepped closer to grip her waist.

"I am horribly in love with you," he repeated. "I saw you when you first entered this theater and had hoped for so long to know you. And when I heard you praying to your father for your blessed Angel of Music, I knew it must be me. I have given you your voice; I ask for your _friendship_ in return, at the least."

Stephanie stared, dumbfounded. "Y-You…" Her voice dissolved, and she suddenly pulled at her hair slightly.

"What is wrong?" he asked frantically, deeply afraid he had scared her away with lies or requests.

"I…I do not know…"

"Do not be afraid of me, darling."

"I am not!" Stephanie shouted suddenly. "I would think that I might have a few moments of contemplation. No man has ever said _that _to me, and I would like it if you gave me one more moment to think about this."

The Phantom nodded, pulling his hands away from her hips and folding them behind his back. "Of course, precious Angel."

He took a few steps backward and stared at her intently. Stephanie sighed and crossed his path, heading up the small flights of stairs. She checked to see if he was following her, but he remained in the same position, only his eyes following her. Stephanie grazed her hands against the bricks of the wall and items scattered around, pondering everything.

So…love.

Stephanie thought it obvious he loved her. Going so far as to want to destroy a whole glass chandelier and half of a building for her just so she could have a big part in a play kind of proved it. She'd known him only a few hours…wait, her whole life! This man had grown up with her and had been there for her, though he was always silent and in the shadows. Unknown.

Perhaps this was too fast.

She'd never seen him before now, and suddenly she was expected to love him back. He was handsome. And he promised to never hurt her. He thought of her as a…goddess. An angel. A beauty. A lover.

Stephanie blushed horribly at the last name, turning sharply to hide her reddening face. She quickly moved and suddenly stood in front of the wall with the curtains. She yanked on the tassel and came face to face with an exact replica of her in painting form.

Stephanie gasped. She had seen this painting before. She had…fainted! Skulduggery had revealed the painting to her, and just the thought of him memorizing every little marking on her face overwhelmed her. She collapsed after that, then.

He really was in love with her, wasn't he?

Stephanie sighed and touched the painting gently. She thought of his firm hands applying stroke after stroke of her hair, face, dress…and bosom. Stephanie blushed again. She thought of him sitting somewhere, dressed in only half of a suit, face contorted in concentration. She thought of all of the blemishes and marks on his own face, and she realized she had almost completely mapped him out.

Stephanie turned and ran back towards Skulduggery. She found him sitting in a straight-backed chair, slouching, and his face in the palm of his hand. The other hand gripped his knee tightly. Stephanie didn't stop dashing towards him, even when he looked up in shock. He stood up wisely and caught her in his cool arms. And Stephanie gripped his face and planted a long and deep kiss on his lips.

They remained holding each other tightly, kissing and breathing in their different scents. His hands released a little and traveled down lower to her hips. Stephanie's hands let go of his face and trailed down to rest on his chest, and she thought she felt something strange under his suit jacket.

Stephanie broke away. "I can give you unconditional love, but I shall need some time to do that," she muttered.

She felt Skulduggery's lips at her temple. "There is no rush, my muse."

Stephanie smiled.

* * *

Tanith Low crept around the corner and listened hard for the singing she had heard earlier. That Opera Ghost had taken her best friend and had kept her for the rest of the night! Oh, Stephanie probably didn't get any sleep. That creep probably spent the whole night making her sing or whatever Angels of Music did.

"I have half a mind to keep you all to myself and never return you to your home," a low and smooth-as-honey voice said.

A woman laughed, and Tanith could then hear smacking sounds, like people kissing rather violently.

"I am afraid I cannot do _everything_ you ask of me, Angel," Stephanie replied.

The Phantom sighed. "I suppose you will have to repay me at a later time."

Tanith shouted with disgust and jumped from around the corner. She pointed a menacing finger at the two, frowning.

"'Morning, Tanith!" Stephanie cried happily, running to hug her friend. "Have they started rehearsal?"

"We're in the middle of a production," Tanith answered dryly. "They don't want to schedule rehearsals in case it 'damages Miss China's vocal chords'."

Stephanie hit her head against her hand. "Oh, of course! I forgot!"

"I am this close to taking you back," the Phantom said lowly in Stephanie's ear, but Tanith still heard.

"Woah, back off, buddy!" she commanded. "I'm sure you're both excited about your sudden relationship, but no one wants to hear what you did last night."

He smiled and nodded gracefully. "I will leave, then," the Phantom said softly, and he kissed Stephanie lightly and wrapped his scarf around his face tightly. He entered the door next to them in a flourish and was not heard again.

Stephanie sighed wistfully. "Oh, Tanith, how can you _not_ love him?" she asked loudly, throwing her arms out.

"I'll love him when he's not such a creeper," Tanith replied.

"You'll get to know him better, I'm sure," her friend said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Do you want to hear about last night?" Stephanie knew her best friend would want the juicy details, no matter how much she disliked the other figure in the picture.

Tanith tried to resist, but she couldn't. She suggested they escape _The Opera Populaire_ to sneak off with sweets and so no one in the crew would overhear them. Stephanie dressed quickly, and the two scampered away unseen by everyone, except for that one certain man, who always made sure he knew where his Angel was…

When Stephanie and Tanith returned, they entered their dormitory room and collapsed from eating so many sugary treats. They did nothing the whole day but talk and giggle about everything girls talk and giggle about, and when it was time for the next performance that night, no one minded Miss China's screeching voice.

Stephanie looked for Skulduggery in box five, but she could only see Fletcher. He, naturally, thought she was staring intently at him and ended up getting the wrong idea. When the show had ended, Fletcher raced from his box to the backstage to find Stephanie. He did indeed find her, but she cornered by a very tall man with a very dark suit and cape. His fingers stroked her cheek.

"Excuse me," Fletcher said valiantly, trying to pull the man off of Stephanie.

Lucas Mallory frowned. "Oh, pleasure to see you again, Monsieur Renn."

Fletcher didn't try to hide his unhappiness either. "The same to you, Monsieur Mallory. Are you alright, Stephanie?"

She nodded. "It's alright, Fletcher," she muttered, placing her hand on Lucas's shoulder. "Really, we're fine."

"I see," he said. "Perhaps I was too slow to capture your heart."

He turned and left, and it took a large amount of persuasion from Stephanie to force Skulduggery to not go after him.

"That glamorous fop," he snarled and folded his arms. "He refuses to get the hint that _no one _likes him."

"I still do," Stephanie said. "He just wants to be friends again."

"No man wants 'to just be friends'."

Stephanie shrugged and turned to head back to her room. "Goodnight, dearest."

Skulduggery struggled for words for a few moments, but he finally decided to just disappear. Stephanie checked to see if he was still behind her, but Skulduggery was not. She shook her head at his sudden jealousy, and she hoped dearly he would grow out of it.

* * *

When the final performance for _Il Muto_ was just beginning a week later, Fletcher Renn sat down in box five, like he normally did. He would enjoy the show for the time being, never noticing the creepy and seething figure behind him. The angered figure kept his temper at bay for Stephanie Daaé and only for Stephanie Daaé. Had she not have cared he probably would have blown his head off…

So then when the intermission began, the curtains around the box closed, and Fletcher Renn heard a loud _click_ sound near his ear. A cold piece of metal pressed against his temple, and a grumbling and angry voice muttered, "You will get out of my box, Monsieur. I have allowed you to sit for this long, but it shall stop right now."

"Oh, yes, Phantom," the patron said cockily.

The gun barrel pressed harder against the forehead. "You will do what I tell you to do, or I swear you will be shot."

"What? Will you kill me?"

"No, simply devoid you of ever having children."

Fletcher's breath hitched a moment, and he finally got up.

"Good boy," the Opera Ghost called manically, disappearing suddenly.

Fletcher opted to forgo the rest of the opera. He waited silently and patiently outside Stephanie's room. He hoped to God that that stupid Mallory wouldn't be clinging to her. Ah, that weasel had eased his way in sweet with Stephanie. Fletcher personally believed that Mallory was making up the childhood story. Did Stephanie really have that many male friends as a child that had suddenly found her at the exact time? No, Fletcher doubted it.

After quite some time, the sounds of the crew of _The Opera Populaire_ could be heard. Fletcher straightened his jacket and smoothing back his hair some. He heard giggling coming from the end of the hallway, and he heard Tanith and Stephanie approaching.

"Good evening!" he called happily, slightly bowing. "That was a fantastic final performance."

"You seemed to miss the last half, Monsieur Renn," Tanith replied cheekily.

"Ah," he said, "yes. That murderous and maniacal Opera Ghost threatened to _shoot_ me if I didn't get out of his box. I still don't believe he exists; it was probably some prankster." He noticed the eyes of the women widen drastically. "Is…everything all right?"

"You look like you have seen a ghost," a velvety voice said from behind Fletcher. "Stephanie, love, are you well?"

Fletcher seriously wondered if there was some divine force constantly forcing this man on him just to spite him.

Stephanie nodded sharply. "I'm perfectly fine, _Lucas_."

"Yeah, we just need to get to bed," Tanith added harshly, grabbing her friend's arm and leading her into the room.

The Phantom of the Opera sighed. "I am sorry, my dearest Stephanie. I was simply having some fun."

"I don't find it funny," Stephanie responded rather coldly.

The Phantom was taken aback – he had never heard her so cruel. "Fine. I will collect you tomorrow. I hope you will be calmed by then."

He tipped his hat and swept his cloak around him and stalked away.

"What…what's happening?" Fletcher asked dumbly.

Stephanie shook her head and said, "It's nothing, Fletcher. Get home and get some rest. Are you all right? After being threatened like that?"

"Oh, it's no worry," he said grandly, puffing his chest out a little. "Don't worry about me – I'm worried more for you. This sudden Lucas character makes me…uneasy. I feel like…he just wants to strangle everyone in sight. Is that weird?"

Tanith laughed. "No, that makes perfect sense, Monsieur Renn. Good night." She opened the door and disappeared into the room.

Stephanie stepped up and hugged Fletcher tightly. "I'm free tomorrow: we must spend time catching up."

"Will Monsieur Mallory mind?"

"No, he'll be fine. I'll just let him know of the change of plans."

As Fletcher was walking away from his old friend, he could have sworn he heard a cry of frustration coming from inside the hallway walls.

* * *

Fletcher keeps getting _blocked_ by my silly Phantom…XD

Ha, thanks for reading and sorry for any mistakes!


	7. Chapter 7

All Messieurs Scapegrace and Thrasher wanted to do was _relax_.

The constant pressure of putting on an opera was quite strenuous, and now that _Il Muto _was finally done, they simply wanted a day of rest before tackling other affairs: like salaries, hiring newcomers, taxes…and stupid and fake Phantoms of the Operas, it seemed.

Madame Bespoke strode into their conjoined office holding a thin envelope. "I have a note from him," she said shortly.

Monsieur Thrasher sighed and began banging his head against his desk. Monsieur Scapegrace grabbed the letter and read it aloud:

"_'Messieurs Scapegrace and Thrasher, _

_You were lucky last time. I had plans to completely destroy your new place of business, but a little songbird convinced me to hold back. You refused to follow my casting directions for _Il Muto_. I promise you a beautiful creature will not sway me this time. You will obey me. _

_Your obedient servant, _

_O.G.'_"

"Obey what instructions?" Monsieur Thrasher shouted. "He didn't even give any!"

"_Again_!" a shrill voice shrieked. The office doors burst open, and Miss China stood there, panting. "Again! I receive another _note_! You are out to hurt me, I know. Do not _lie_. I hear you!"

"No, Signora!" Monsieur Scapegrace said, automatically adjusting to his groveling-state. "We sent no letter! You are mistaken!"

"You _dare_?" she questioned angrily, brandishing her own letter and reading it aloud:

"_'Signora China Giudicelli,_

_I came within an inch of ruining your entire life and career. A woman saved you and this opera house, though. Treat her well or you will be harmed. The newest production shall be announced shortly, and I fully expect you to obey my commands as well. For if you complain and shout and cry, I promise you – you will be harmed very greatly. _

_Do not test me, Signora. _

_Your obedient servant, _

_O.G._'"

"Oh, Signora!" Monsieur Thrasher cried desperately. "You know we _adore _you! Anything that silly fake ghost says has no effect on our casting choices."

"Oh, please, ladies, gentlemen," a soft voice cooed from a corner. "Please call me Phantom."

Madame Bespoke, the men, and Miss China all turned to face a man dressed in gray and black. His suit was gray while his cape was black. He wore a gray scarf that covered his entire face, and a black hat was pulled down lowly over his face.

"Y-You!" Miss China screeched. "You leave! Now!"

"Sit down, stupid woman!" he responded loudly, his voice echoing around the room.

Miss China gasped and backed away against the wall. Monsieur Thrasher offered her a chair.

"You…you are here," Madame Bespoke said quietly, her head tilted to the side in amazement.

The Phantom nodded. "Indeed, Madame. Now, Messieurs, to get on with discussing the casting. You will be performing _Venus and Adonis_, a horribly tragic tale filled with far too much romance for even Casanova."

"If you, O Mighty Opera Ghost, hate it so much why-" Monsieur Thrasher began, but he was cut off with a great stomp of the Phantom's foot.

"You will remain silent until I explain it, good Monsieur. I want this done correctly – meaning Miss China will not be in the Venus's place. No, I want Miss Stephanie Daaé for her. She is soft and sweet and has a voice no one can match. She is perfect for this role. If you place Miss China in Venus's part, I will cause serious damage."

"What kind of damage?" Miss China sneered. "More frogs?"

In a moment, the Phantom had a great big silver gun drawn and cocked. "Be quiet," he said slowly and strongly, keeping the gun pointed right at Miss China's face. "And what I shall do will remain a secret. I do hope you will not see what I will do. My requests are simple: allow a real and true voice sing in place of a horrible screech." He turned to Madame Bespoke. "Do not let her know of this, Madame. She will be crushed."

Madame Bespoke nodded solemnly, knowing that it was wise to follow the Phantom's instructions.

"Do as you are told, good friends," the Phantom said as he began retreating to the dark corner he had appeared in, "and we will not have any…mishaps. Good day to you all."

He tipped his hat, gave a flick of his hand, plunged the room in darkness, and then he was gone without a sound.

Miss China was the first to react. She reacted by screamed her face off.

* * *

Stephanie wrote a quick letter to Skulduggery, saying she was going to spend time with Fletcher and that he should not worry about her or come looking for her. She would be fine. She left the note on her pillow, hoping the Phantom would appear in her room, requesting her presence but find the letter instead. Stephanie dressed quickly and ran out the front door of _The Opera Populaire_. Fletcher stood by his horses and carriage, waiting for her.

He smiled at her appearance. "There you are, Little Valerie!" he called out happily and hugging her. He helped her climb into the carriage, and he asked after that, "Where to, lovely lady?"

"Hmm…" Stephanie pondered a moment. "How about…the candy shop?"

"Oh, thank goodness," Fletcher said, relieved. "I've been waiting desperately to get in there, but I figured everyone would think it strange – a grown man having the time of his life in a candy shop."

Stephanie laughed. "Maybe they'd back off when they saw how much you were buying."

Fletcher joined in the laughter, and for the rest of the ride there, they joked light-heartedly. Fletcher stopped the carriage and jumped up to help Stephanie from the vehicle. They entered the shop and began stocking up on everything they could afford and that was quite a lot. Fletcher noticed the lack of tables available outside the little shop, and he offered his arm to Stephanie, and he led her to a small grassy park. Fletcher flopped onto the grass and bit into a chocolate.

"So, tell me, how are you?" Fletcher asked simply.

Stephanie shrugged. "Things…are different."

"How so?"

"The singing, the opera…uh, Lucas…"

"Ah, see," Fletcher said cleverly, "I was trying to avoid the subject until you brought it up. Where in the world did he come from? Are you really childhood friends?"

"No, we're not," Stephanie admitted. "But I have known him for quite a while. We…wrote letters to each other, and he finally came up here to see me."

"But he kept talking about how you were just a child when he knew you!"

"Well, he was simply joking," Stephanie said, saving herself. "I've never seen his face until now."

"Apparently it's a very nice face."

"I do say that it is."

"But he's…he's so controlling!" he replied, exasperated. "I swear, it's like he just wants to put a ball and chain around everyone and keep them all under his supervision."

"He's had an interesting life," Stephanie said, though she admitted that she really didn't know Skulduggery's backstory. She made a mental note to ask him about it. "But enough about him. Tell me: how did you come to be the patron here?"

Fletcher smiled and popped in another chocolate into his mouth. He explained his story, making it horribly dramatic, resulting in Stephanie being in stitches from laughing.

When they had eaten all the sweets they could, the two staggered back to the shop and returned back to the opera house. When they walked through the doors, Tanith ran up to Stephanie and grabbed her arms and said, "You're Venus!"

"I…What?"

"The managers said we're performing _Venus and Adonis_ next, and you're Venus! Not Miss China!"

Stephanie laughed and replied, "And Miss China's perfectly fine with this?"

"Oh who cares about her? You're Venus!" Tanith grinned and skipped off suddenly, charging up the stairs and leaving Fletcher and Valkyrie alone.

"So…" Fletcher muttered, smiling, "it seems you're Venus…"

Stephanie smiled. "I had fun, Fletcher."

"As did I, Little Valerie." Fletcher reached in and kissed her cheek warmly. "Perhaps we could go out and actually celebrate your new role? Try not to get captured by a phony ghost."

She laughed and waved as Fletcher made his way out. Her skin developed goose bumps the moment he left the theater, and Stephanie knew she wouldn't really get to go out with Fletcher like that again.

Her Angel of Music would not let her.

* * *

Thanks for reading and sorry for any mistakes! :DDD


	8. Chapter 8

The preparations for _Venus and Adonis _were going perfectly.

A few people only knew of the hidden relationship between Miss Stephanie Daaé and the Phantom of the Opera, but the relationship between Miss Stephanie Daaé and Lucas Mallory was spread everywhere.

The Phantom, disguised as Lucas, attended every rehearsal, sometimes sitting in different seats throughout the theater. He would occasionally sit in box number five, and he received strange and worried glances for this.

Their secret relationship hit a wall for a moment early on when the Phantom would not let go of his Stephanie and allow her much freedom, but with her wise words and persuasive voice, he had let up. The Phantom had apologized in his own strange way by composing a rather haunting ballad for his muse, which nearly brought her to tears. But four months later, they were happy. Stephanie remained in constant touch with her lover and her best friend and her old childhood friend.

But then everything became doomed in one little moment.

While rehearsing one day, Skulduggery Pleasant had seated himself in box number five. He watched the painters and costume makers violently work as his beautiful lady sang and danced gracefully. She would constantly throw him a glance and smile widely, and he would return it.

"You may be threatened if you dare sit here again," Fletcher Renn said light-heartedly that same day. "The Phantom of the Opera will come after you with a knife."

Skulduggery smirked. "I believe someone is bitter for being forced out of this box during a performance, no?"

"Perhaps, Monsieur Mallory."

"I have heard this is the Phantom's private box. He apparently hates it when people sit here. It has a splendid view of the stage and audience - I can see why he likes it so much."

Fletcher nodded. He sighed and said, "You and Miss Daaé are quite close, aren't you?"

"I would say we are."

"You do not mind our constant togetherness?"

"No. I trust her. I know she will not do anything."

"She has told me numerous times than you said you would never hurt her."

"And I never have, Monsieur Renn. And please, stop prying. Our relationship is none of your business."

Skulduggery crossed his legs and leaned back a bit in his chair. He set his eyes on the stage where Madame Bespoke was instructing her dancers. As Venus, Stephanie needed do some dancing, but most of it was left to the ballet girls. The ballet girls had their part down easily, and they practiced a little ways off while Madame Bespoke worked harshly with Stephanie. She stomped her cane on the ground three times, signaling the start.

Stephanie raised her arms slowly like a budding flower and pointed her toes firmly. Her foot tapped the floor three times in different places around her, and she took soft steps to the right, where she continued to wave her arms vividly and elegantly. Madame Bespoke made her rehearse that specific part and practice it over and over again until it was as smooth as could be.

"And run on three! Jump on three!" Madame Bespoke commanded. She slammed her cane on the ground again three times and counted to three also. Stephanie took a deep breath and began running quickly. Madame Bespoke shouted the word "three", and Stephanie took a leap into the air, sailing gracefully.

The Angel of Music leaned forward in anticipation, waiting to see her perfect landing, but instead he shouted in shock.

Stephanie did land, but it was far from perfect.

Her ankle caught the ground at an awkward angle, and she fell in a heap. Stephanie shouted in pain.

Skulduggery Pleasant had two options then: get to her as fast as possible – meaning jumping over the box balcony and causing more questions and pestering to come about him or get to Stephanie slower by taking the stairs.

Fletcher Renn had already rushed from the box and down the stairs, so Skulduggery took the unconventional route: he vaulted over the balcony and landed like a cat on the ground. He sprinted to Stephanie, now being tended to by Madame Bespoke and a few other girls. Skulduggery took a leap and landed on the stage and came to kneel before his love.

"Oh, Angel…" Stephanie croaked sadly, biting her lip from pain.

"It does not look awful," Madame Bespoke announced calmly. "Will you carry her, please?" she asked the Phantom. He nodded and quietly asked for her to place her own arms around his neck. His skinny arms wrapped around her waist and knees. Madame Bespoke shooed everyone out of the way as Skulduggery followed behind her, clutching Stephanie tightly. Madame Bespoke brought them to the Prima Donna's room and told Skulduggery to place Stephanie on the bed while she went and fetched the managers. She commanded him to not leave her side.

When she had left, Skulduggery pushed Stephanie's hair from her face and stroked her cheeks softly. She whimpered from the gentle touch and the pain of her ankle, but she quieted at the soft sound of the Phantom's eerie voice:

"_You alone can make my song take flight  
Help me make the music of the night..._"

Messieurs Scapegrace and Thrasher entered the room briskly, with Madame Bespoke behind them.

"It does not look serious," Madame Bespoke was saying calmly. "But she will not be able to perform for quite a while." She cast a glance to the Phantom beside the injured star, knowing full well that he would be outraged. But he showed no sign of hearing them at all.

"Monsieur, if you could move for a moment, please?" Monsieur Scapegrace asked kindly, stepping up to Stephanie. He bent down to examine the hurt ankle and sent Monsieur Thrasher to call for a doctor. He returned a few moments later saying the doctor would arrive with a quarter of an hour. The four remained in the room, desperately waiting. Skulduggery continued to stroke Stephanie's hair softly and gently.

When the doctor did arrive, he shooed everyone out of the room except for Madame Bespoke. Monsieur Scapegrace decided he ought to alert some of the staff of this unfortunate event, while Monsieur Thrasher stayed to get the verdict from the doctor. After a long time of waiting, the doctor and Madame Bespoke emerged.

"She is sleeping," the doctor said simply. "She has sprained her ankle and shouldn't do much of anything for the time being. In about two months, I would say she could get up and move around without too much help."

"She was the lead in a production," Monsieur Thrasher said. "Do we…have to replace her?" He thought of the Phantom of the Opera and that huge silver gun of his.

The doctor shrugged. "You could put production on halt until she heals completely, which should be about six months from now. But it will be a while before she can walk normally."

Monsieur Thrasher walked him out of the building as they discussed payment, leaving Madame Bespoke alone with the Opera Ghost.

"Monsieur…do not do anything drastic," she pleaded quietly. "Do not force her into anything. Do not."

The Phantom adjusted his suit and pulled a purple scarf from practically nowhere. "I would never, Madame," he said sharply and wrapped himself in his cloak and disappeared in a puff of smoke. "I shall return when she awakes," his ghostly voice said from somewhere in the ceiling.

As Madame Bespoke trailed off to find her daughter, she could hear shouts of frustration and anger.

* * *

Stephanie awoke a few hours later to soft singing. She tried sitting up, but a firm hand pressed on her shoulder and kept her down.

"Do not move, my Stephanie," the Angel of Music whispered.

"I'd like to at least sit up," she replied, keeping her eyes closed.

He sighed and braced her neck against his hand and lifted her upper body up. He propped the pillow against the headboard and laid her back.

Stephanie opened her eyes and looked at her Angel. She kissed his cheek softly and looked down at her aching foot.

"What exactly happened?" she groaned.

"You fell while dancing," he explained quietly. "Your ankle is sprained. You won't be able to walk without someone constantly carrying you for a few weeks."

She sighed unhappily. "What about the play?" she suddenly asked frantically.

"I have asked the managers about it, but they gave me no answer," he replied. It was true he had asked, yet in a note. When he had left Stephanie during her sleep, he had returned to his lair to compose a letter to the managers. He dropped it in their office from a ceiling grate and listened to them read it aloud:

"_Messieurs Scapegrace and Thrasher, _

_I have seen the terrible accident. Do not fear. I am not angry with you or your ballet instructor. Miss Daaé will be fine, I know. However, you will still plan to put on the production when she has recovered, no matter how long that takes. You will _not_ place Miss China as Venus, or as I said, a horrible disaster will occur. You followed my instructions well enough last time – perhaps you simply needed a real presence to command you. I say again, if you do not follow my instructions, a horrible disaster will occur. _

_You have been warned. _

_Your obedient servant, _

_O.G._"

The managers groaned in agony and annoyance at the appearance of the note, but the Phantom knew he had gotten his point across.

"Do you think they'll replace me?" Stephanie asked, just barely above a whisper.

Skulduggery sighed and moved closer to his angel and stroked her cheek. "They could never replace a beautiful flower like you, my dearest."

Stephanie moved her head against his hand, closed her eyes, and sighed lovingly into his caress. "I love you," she whispered.

The stroking stopped.

Stephanie wondered what she had done. Had she said the wrong thing? Did he not love her back? She opened her eyes to see her Angel staring dumbfounded at her.

"You…what?" he asked.

Stephanie sighed in relief and placed her hands on his face. "I love you."

"Me?"

"Yes, you, silly Angel."

"Even with my maniacal and jealous ways?"

"Yes, even with those."

Skulduggery placed his hand on the sheets. He gestured at the space beside his love, and Stephanie nodded, giving him permission to sit. He moved smoothly from his chair and sat. He placed one hand on the other side of Stephanie's body and kissed her squarely on the lips. She made a small sound of surprise but did not stop. He trailed his lips from her own and kissed along her jaw line, ending up to her ear. He nipped at the lobe.

"I love you so much it hurts," he whispered in her ear.

Stephanie curled her nails into his suit material and began yanking him closer, but there was suddenly a very firm knock at the door.

"Stephanie!" Fletcher Renn shouted. "Are you all right?"

Skulduggery Pleasant sighed greatly and gut up reluctantly to answer the door. "She is fine," he said sharply, opened the oak door. "Care to see her?"

"Please, Monsieur Mallory," Fletcher replied. He stepped around Skulduggery and rushed to Stephanie's side. "Oh, goodness, this is terrible," he moaned. "Does it hurt much?"

"A little," Stephanie admitted. "Lucas told me that it's not very serious. I'll be able to walk normally eventually."

"What about the production?"

"I don't know. Lucas asked the managers, but they didn't give him an answer."

Fletcher nodded and gripped her hand. "Oh, that was horrible to see," he muttered. "Thank God Monsieur Mallory got to you quickly." Fletcher turned to the man. "How _did_ you get to her so fast, Monsieur?"

The Phantom hesitated a moment, but he said finally, "I managed to scale the curtains hanging along the walls…"

Fletcher tilted his head. "Wha-"

Stephanie suddenly groaned loudly in pain and clutched the bed. "Ooh, my ankle!" she shouted dramatically.

Skulduggery gasped in shock and shouted for Fletcher to get out. Fletcher kept trying to say something about getting Madame Bespoke, but Skulduggery shouted that there was no need and forced him out the door. He shut the door and just began saying random soothing sayings, and Stephanie quieted down gradually.

"Ah, what a marvelous actress you are, dearest," Skulduggery said, laughing and sitting next to her on the bed again.

"Well, he was bugging me. I wanted him to leave. I wanted you."

He sighed happily and scooted closer to her, placing one hand on her waist on the other side and bracing the other hand against the headboard. He resumed the kissing, and they had a good ten minutes of peace before another knock came at the door.

"Stephanie? Monsieur M-Mallory?" It was Madame Bespoke.

Skulduggery got up and bounded to the door. He unlocked it and allowed her to enter.

"Monsieur Renn came rushing down to me, screaming about your ankle," she explained. "Are you all right?"

Stephanie nodded and smiled sheepishly. "I really just did that to get Monsieur Renn to leave," she admitted. "Lucas and I, we wanted him gone, really."

Madame Bespoke nodded and turned. "You look flushed, darling," she said and left the room.

Stephanie blushed and almost called to her, but Skulduggery shut the door and rushed to her again. He almost reached her lips, but Stephanie gasped.

"What's happening to you?" she asked, staring at him intently. His face had begun to…droop.

The Phantom of the Opera backed up a few feet and turned around. His gloved hands clutched at his face, and he shouted in frustration. He grabbed his cape and swung it around him, throwing on his hat and wrapping his scarf around his face haphazardly.

"I have to go!" he choked out. He whipped his cloak around him and disappeared. Stephanie wanted to call after him, since he couldn't be far away, but she knew he wouldn't answer her. Stephanie sighed and pushed her hair back and cringed at the pain radiating from her swollen ankle. She thought of her lover's horrified screech and his frantic departure, and she wondered…

What had happened?

* * *

I kept trying to upload the next chapters, but FF kept giving me an error when I'd try. Hopefully it'll be fixed soon! Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't...

I'm really loving your reviews. Perhaps this twist will keep you guessing for a little bit...

Thanks for reading and sorry for any mistakes! :DDD


	9. Chapter 9

Stephanie did not see her Angel for a week after that strange incident.

She simply spent all her hours in her bed, reading, singing, drawing (though she was awful at it) – _anything_ to keep her from dying of boredom. She constantly wrote notes to her Angel to ask him how he was and what was wrong, but she only ever actually sent one. She quietly asked Tanith to inconspicuously drop it in box number five, and Stephanie hoped he would find it.

But she at least knew he was still there in _The Opera Populaire_. Tanith told her that whenever Miss China was on the stage to rehearse her part for _Venus and Adonis_, things of hers would go missing or a locust would appear. A few sandbags fell and nearly hit her and her posse as well. The Opera Ghost knew for certain that Miss China would do practically anything to get the part of Venus.

Skulduggery Pleasant did not want to show himself to people for a few more days, or at least not until he was sure he was completely set right again. He definitely knew that Stephanie would be the first to see him.

_Ooohh_, he missed her. He missed her so much.

When Skulduggery did show himself again to his dearest, it was under the worst circumstances.

Stephanie was sitting with Tanith in their room and was simply chatting away quietly.

The Phantom of the Opera burst through the room. He slammed the door. Tanith and Stephanie screamed in surprise, but Stephanie smiled widely when she noticed who this was.

"Oh, you're back!" she shouted gleefully. She wanted to desperately get up and hug him, but she knew that they wouldn't let her move. And besides, her Angel stood stiffly in the corner and was breathing heavily.

"They have replaced you," he said darkly through the scarf.

"What?"

"Miss China stole your part," he replied. "She told a story of sounds coming from your room – sounds that…if heard would sound like something rather intimate and questionable."

Stephanie gasped and clutched her face. "You know that I would _never-_"

The Phantom shook his head. "I know you would not," he said quietly. "Miss China made up the story and have the managers believing you're some…some…whore." He snarled and stomped his foot. "I will do everything in my power to change their minds. They will pay harshly for such thoughts, and Miss China will suffer horribly for her lies."

Stephanie shook her head and felt tears brimming in her eyes. She looked pleadingly at Tanith, who understood right away and left quickly.

The Phantom advanced silently and knelt down next to her. "Do not cry, my darling," he whispered and brushed her tears away. "I hate to see your tears."

Stephanie tried to stop the flow, but they kept coming. "I'm so sorry," she sobbed. "If I hadn't fallen and hurt myself then this-"

"Don't say such things!" he commanded harshly, pressed his hands against her cheeks firmly. "You…It was not your fault. I forced the managers to place you as Venus. I threatened them with a disaster. I had Miss China at…gun point."

Stephanie gasped and felt her tears keep coming down her face. Skulduggery Pleasant groaned and cradled her head to his chest.

Stephanie pulled away confused. "Where is your heartbeat?" she asked softly, wiping her face.

"It is there," he stated. He moved away by a few feet and breathed heavily. "It is slow."

Stephanie moaned sadly and hit her head against the headboard. "What did you say you would do to the managers?"

"Nothing to _them_. I just threatened something would happen. I do not particularly know what I will do, really. Are you angry with me?"

Stephanie hesitated a moment, but she nodded her head. "You cannot keep menacing them like that. And…I only got Venus because you forced it. Sku-" Stephanie stopped and looked at the man covered with the scarf deeply. "What is your real name?" she asked suddenly.

The Phantom stiffened. Did he even remember his real name? Oh…_that _name…the same exact name as his good-for-nothing father, and the same last name of his idiot fool-of-a-mother.

He sighed and answered with, "Tristan Hayes."

Stephanie smiled and nodded. "A nice name," she said quietly.

"It was my father's."

"Oh, lovely!"

"I hated my father."

"…O-Oh."

The Opera Ghost straightened even farther. "I know you think you were only chosen to be Venus because I made it so. But I truly never said what I would do, and those idiots still chose you."

"You held Miss China at gun point!"

"She would not quiet down. Every time she spoke, I thought I could hear…an elephant dying."

"Promise me you won't do anything too drastic," Stephanie begged. "Please don't."

"I have sworn to them that no convincing even from my little songbird will keep them from harm. I must do something to let them know how horribly they have disobeyed me."

"Do not…kill. Do not kill anyone."

The Phantom sharply inhaled. "I promise I will not."

"You must swear it." Stephanie, while still completely defenseless and incapacitated, radiated command.

"I swear I will not kill anyone."

Stephanie released the breath she didn't know she was holding and exhaled in relief. "Thank you," she muttered and looked at him with hopeful eyes.

Her look almost broke his heart. Well…his hypothetical heart. He knew he would have to get rid of anyone who stood in his way.

And if that meant killing a man so his Angel could have the spotlight, then so be it.

* * *

Occasionally the uploader thing is being dumb, but I can still get it to work sometimes. Um, yeah.

Thanks for reading and sorry for any mistakes! :DDD


	10. Chapter 10

The **bold** is just people yelling. Just sayin'.

* * *

A month later and _The Opera Populaire_ had managed to sufficiently prepare Miss China and the rest of the performers for their _Venus and Adonis _production.

It had been two-and-a-half months since Stephanie's accident, and her ankle was recovering at a steady and normal pace.

Skulduggery had been spending less and less time above ground and more and more time in his lair. Stephanie hoped it was nothing she had said; she would be crushed if he hated her for any reason! Because Skulduggery hadn't been around lately, she had taken the time to watch the rehearsals she could no longer participate in, in box five with Fletcher Renn. He had tried to stay by her side constantly, but sometimes Tanith would drag Stephanie away to read a note dropped in their room. The Phantom occasionally left tiny letters to Stephanie, saying he missed her but could not come to see her because of the preparations for the opera.

So on the opening night of the production, Stephanie and Fletcher took their seats in box number five. Stephanie reassured Fletcher many, _many _times they would not be harmed throughout the performance. "Who would harm little me?" she had asked happily.

Miss China came on the stage, dressed in a gaudy costume for Venus and began screeching her songs. The opera continued on for quite a while, but there was suddenly a huge _boom_! coming from the ceiling. The precious crystal chandelier rocked precariously.

"**You have defied me!**" The Phantom of the Opera cried in frustration and agony. "**I said you would pay for this, you fools! The Phantom of the Opera is not pleased!**"

The audience shrieked and tried running, but Monsieur Scapegrace calmed everyone by saying there was nothing to worry about and that it was just some hooligan causing the trouble. The music started up again for the opera, but the Opera Ghost interrupted it again.

"**Monsieur Scapegrace, how could a simpleton know of my existence? You have a hole in your words, Monsieur! You will prepare for **_**blood**_**!**"

His last sentence spiraled far too many people into panic.

Stephanie Daaé herself grew tense and shivered at the intensity of her lover's words.

"Don't worry, Little Valerie," Fletcher whispered to her a few moments later. "You have nothing to fear, since I am with you."

Stephanie nodded uneasily and tried relaxing, but the intimidating speech continued to scream and tear at her mind.

* * *

Skulduggery Pleasant stormed angrily through the passages leading to the stage of the theater. He stepped onto the rafters and found himself standing directly above Miss China. He contemplated pulling out his gun and ending her sad life then and there but decided against it for the time being. He instead moved backwards a few planks and crouched lowly. He caught sight of a pale and rugged stagehand – Caelan, he believed was the name – look through the darkness where he had just been suspiciously. The Phantom figured he could deal with him later.

The Opera Ghost cocked the gun and aimed for his target.

"**I had sworn you would pay for this! Your disobedience, Messieurs, and your lies, Signora Giudicelli!**"

He pulled the trigger and smiled triumphantly as the bullet soared the air and hit Miss China squarely in the thigh. She screamed in agony and pain and shock as blood stained her costume and spilled down on the floor of the stage. Skulduggery watched the managers rush from their box, and his eyes slid over to his personal box number five where that glamorous fool Monsieur Renn was holding _his_ Angel! Oh, _horror_!

Miss China was rushed from the stage to be cared for, while Monsieur Scapegrace stayed to try and calm his audience. "Please," he was shouting desperately, "ladies! Gentlemen! Stay calm! Do not panic! She will be fine! Now, the, uh, show must go on! Our rendition will continue with…Miss Stephanie Daaé as Venus!"

He pointed to box number five, and everyone began cheering at this. Stephanie tried to tell Monsieur Scapegrace that would be impossible for her, but he was gazing around the ceilings and rafters to look for the fiend.

The Phantom smirked and retreated farther into the darkness.

"While she prepares," Monsieur Scapegrace said, "we will have the ballet from, uh, act two! Please, Maestro?"

The conductor nodded uneasily and directed his musicians to start. Monsieur Scapegrace left the stage quickly, bumping into a few dancers along the way.

The Phantom looked up to box number five, but Fletcher and Stephanie were gone. He watched the dancing for a while, but there was a sudden tap at his shoulder.

Caelan the Stagehand aimed for the foe's face, but he only hit air. Caelan felt a huge damaging blow to his stomach and felt everything in there churn. Caelan groaned in pain and then suddenly felt a cold pressure on the middle of his forehead.

"Ah, I hate to break it to you," a cold voice whispered darkly, "but no one really likes you."

A _bang! _went off again in the air.

Caelan's body fell down and hit the stage floor with a horrible cracking sound, and the Phantom cackled with glee loudly as turmoil spread through the audience. There was no calming them down now.

Fletcher and Stephanie heard the horrified screaming coming from the theater. Fletcher left the dressing room with Madame Bespoke, while Stephanie tried desperately to fix the rest of the costume up.

More screams and even sirens from outside were heard, and Stephanie knew something truly awful had happened, and only one person could have done it. She flung on a cape and tried her best to scamper to the rooftop of the opera house, but she still only limped. She exhausted herself on the journey to the roof and ran out into the night air. She leaned over the edge and watched as people spilled out frantically, still screaming.

Stephanie knew it.

He had killed.

"**You monster!**" she screamed, suddenly, feeling a rush of anger and hatred for the man who had loved her. "**You promised me you wouldn't kill! You lied to me! You're not my Angel of Music; you're not my savior; you're NOTHING! I can't…**"

Stephanie burst into tears as she collapsed onto the ground. The door she had came out of slammed and someone came running towards her.

"Oh, Stephanie, Stephanie," they cooed.

"**I HATE YOU!**" Stephanie Daaé screamed to the sky, knowing that the Phantom of the Opera could hear her. The thought of her being too dramatic crossed her mind…but she dismissed it. The man had lied to her. He had killed even after swearing not to. She had the right to hate, didn't she? Didn't she?

"Stephanie!" Fletcher Renn shouted at her, turning her to face him. He gripped her shoulders tightly and groaned her name sadly.

"_Stephanie_…" another ghostly and eerie voice crooned quietly.

Stephanie gasped and backed away from Fletcher. She searched the sky and roof wildly, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Phantom. A tear escaped from her cheek.

"_There is no Phantom of the Opera,_" Fletcher sang quietly, stepping closer.

Stephanie turned around quickly and shook her head and sang:

"_Fletcher, I've been there  
to his world of unending night  
To a world with the daylight dissolves into darkness...  
darkness...  
Fletcher, I've seen him!  
Can I ever forget his face?_

_In that darkness..._  
_darkness..._"

She trailed off and sighed. Her eyes glazed over suddenly, and she seemed content somehow. She sang:

"_But his voice filled my spirit  
with a strange, sweet sound...  
In that night there was music in my mind...  
And through music my soul began to soar!  
And I heard as I'd never heard before..._"_  
_

"_What you heard was a dream and nothing more...!_" Fletcher responded frantically, trying to calm her.

"_Yet in his eyes  
all the sadness of the world  
Those pleading eyes,  
that both threaten and adore!_"

"_Stephanie, Stephanie,_" Fletcher cried sadly.

Again, Stephanie heard a ghostly voice calling to her, "_Stephanie_…"

She gasped, and a sob was wrenched from her throat. Fletcher ran to catch her as she fell forward a little.

"You heard it, didn't you?" Stephanie asked him. "You heard that…right?

"I heard nothing, Little Valerie," he said. "Would you like for me to check?"

She nodded, and Fletcher pulled away and scanned the rooftop and statues and leaned over the side. Stephanie remained frozen on the spot, horrified and confused and cold.

"There's no one here, Stephanie," he said softly.

She turned.

Their eyes met.

And it changed.

Fletcher stepped closer to her and sang:

"_No more talk of darkness,  
Forget these wide-eyed fears  
I'm here, nothing can harm you  
my words will warm and calm you  
Let me be your freedom,  
let daylight dry your tears.  
I'm here with you, beside you,  
to guard you and to guide you..._"

He placed a warm hand on her rosy cheeks as Stephanie joined in quietly, still letting tears fall from her face, though she began to smile through them. She sang:

"_Say you love me every waking moment,  
turn my head with talk of summertime...  
Say you need me with you now and always...  
Promise me that all you say is true  
that's all I ask of you!_"_  
_  
"_Let me be your shelter  
let me be your light  
You're safe, No one will find you  
your fears are far behind you..._" Fletcher replied in song again, caressing her cheek with his thumb.

Stephanie pulled away and limped to the edge where she looked over at the quiet city. She sang:

"_All I want is freedom,  
a world with no more night  
and you, always beside me, to hold me and to hide me..._"

She felt Fletcher's hands turn her around, and she looked at his gleaming eyes, and she thought she saw a tear roll down his face.

"_Then say you'll share with me  
one love, one lifetime  
let me lead you from your solitude  
Say you need me with you here, beside you...  
anywhere you go, let me go too  
Steph'nie, that's all I ask of you...!_" he sang loudly and more grandly now.

Stephanie replied with:

"_Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime...  
say the word and I will follow you..._

_Share each day with me,  
each night, each morning..._

_Say you love me..._"

Fletcher nodded and whispered, "_You know I do..._"

Together they both sang quietly:

"_Love me - that's all I ask of you…_"

They stopped their singing, and both felt a strange sensation erupt within them. Stephanie could not resist and reached forward and grabbed Fletcher Renn's face and kissed him deeply. He muttered something in surprise but kissed her back just as forcefully. They pulled apart and sang to each other:

"_Anywhere you go let me go too!  
Love me - that's all I ask of you..._"

They ended their love song and stared at each other. Stephanie suddenly smiled brightly, all horrible thoughts of that man gone from her mind, and laughed and kissed Fletcher hard and long again. He picked her up and spun her around. Stephanie sighed when she was placed on the ground gently, but a thought suddenly came to her mind:

"_I must go! They'll wonder where I am!  
Wait for me, Fletcher!_"

She began advancing towards the door, but Fletcher suddenly shouted to the Heavens, "_Stephanie I love you!_"

She smiled at his display: arms out like he was asking for a hug, big wide smile on his face. She sang back, "_Order your fine horses! Be with them at the door!_"

"_And soon, you'll be beside me…_"

"_You'll guard me and you'll guide me!_"

Fletcher gripped Stephanie's hand and led her from the cold rooftop and back into the house. He stole one more kiss from her before shutting the door and swinging her up into his arms so she wouldn't have to walk the steps…

* * *

A stark white hand curled up and gripped a statue's wing. Another stark white hand did the same to the other side. The Phantom of the Opera hoisted himself up and cooed sadly:

"_I gave you my music  
made your song take wing  
and now how you've repaid me  
denied me and betrayed me!_"

The Phantom pounded his fist on the statue and hung his head down low and continued pitifully:

"_He was bound to love you  
when he heard you sing  
Stephanie..._"

He stopped singing and howled in pain and sadness. But then suddenly, his Angel…She was there! He looked to the side where he heard her soft voice, but he realized soon that also that Fletcher was singing along too. He was hearing things! Oh God! Skulduggery Pleasant hit his hands against his head, desperate to try and get the sound out of his ears!

"_Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime  
say the word and I will follow you  
Share each day with me,  
each night, each morning…!_"

"No! No, no, no!" he wept and shook his head in disgust. He failed at getting his one true love, and it was _haunting_ him! The imaginary song in his head ended, and he felt anger bubbling in the hole where his stomach would be. He gripped fistfuls of his cape and cried triumphantly:

"_You will curse the day you did not do  
all that the Phantom asked of you!_"

He hit the statue once more and fled the roof. He entered through a secret passage, cackling loudly and horribly throughout his journey, and when he reached the theater where people, miraculously and surprisingly, were watching the rest of the show with Stephanie as Venus, he yanked out his gun and shot the cord the held the priceless crystal chandelier in place. The cord instantly broke, and the chandelier swung through the air violently until it crashed onto the stage near Miss Stephanie Daaé.

And the Phantom of the Opera kept his insane laughing going while panic, again, seeped through the theater like the blood of the dead seeped through the Phantom of the Opera's hands.

* * *

Ahh, this is so much dang fun~

Thanks for reading and sorry for any mistakes! :DDD


	11. Chapter 11

"Monsieur…Scapegrace?"

"Monsieur…Thrasher?"

The two men crept forward an inch, and they both pulled off their masks. Both were wearing rather morbid costumes, pretending to be their silly Phantom of the Opera and what the rumors said he looked like. Monsieur Scapegrace wore a long black cloak with a black cape and a red mask covered the upper half of his face. Monsieur Thrasher had a gold and black cape, atop a black suit, along with a dark top hat and stark white mask over half of his face.

They laughed, and Scapegrace sang joyfully, "_Dear Thrasher, what a splendid party!_"

"_The prologue to a bright new year!_" Monsieur Thrasher responded.

"_Quite a night! I'm impressed._"

"_Well, one does one's best!_"

Together the two sang:

"_Here's to us!_"

Monsieur Scapegrace leaned in close to Monsieur Thrasher and sang: "_I must say, all the same, that it's a shame the 'Phantom' fellow isn't here!_"

Monsieur Thrasher laughed and led the way into _The Opera Populaire_. The doors were ajar, and the sight inside was breathtaking.

The rich and high society peoples danced around happily, turning this way and that. The stairs, columns, floor, curtains, lamps, _everything_ were decorated beautifully. The banisters had golden cloth draped over them, while winding golden candelabras were lit and scattered about. Silver and gold confetti rained down from the ceiling from an unknown source. Everyone grabbed a dancing partner and all joined in singing:

"_Masquerade!  
Paper faces on parade . . .  
Masquerade!  
Hide your face,  
so the world will  
never find you!_

_Masquerade!  
Every face a different shade . . .  
Masquerade!  
Look around -  
there's another  
mask behind you!_

_Flash of mauve . . .  
Splash of puce . . .  
Fool and king . . .  
Ghoul and goose . . .  
Green and black . . .  
Queen and priest . . .  
Trace of rouge . . .  
Face of beast . . ._

_Faces . . .  
Take your turn, take a ride  
on the merry-go-round . . .  
in an inhuman race . . ._

_Eye of gold . . .  
Thigh of blue . . .  
True is false . . .  
Who is who . . .?  
Curl of lip . . .  
Swirl of gown . . .  
Ace of hearts . . .  
Face of clown . . ._

_Faces . . .  
Drink it in, drink it up,  
till you've drowned  
in the light . . .  
in the sound . . .  
_  
Off to the side, Fletcher Renn and Stephanie Daaé joined in quickly together:

"_But who can name the face?_"

Again, the partygoers all sang:

"_Masquerade!  
Grinning yellows,  
spinning reds . . .  
Masquerade!  
Take your fill -  
let the spectacle  
astound you!_

_Masquerade!  
Burning glances,  
turning heads . . .  
Masquerade!  
Stop and stare  
at the sea of smiles  
around you!_

_Masquerade!  
Seething shadows  
breathing lies . . .  
Masquerade!  
You can fool  
any friend who  
ever knew you!_

_Masquerade!  
Leering satyrs,  
peering eyes . . .  
Masquerade!  
Run and hide -  
but a face will  
still pursue you!_"

The huge crowd continued the dancing, but they moved away to allow room on the grand staircase. Miss China, wearing the most cleavage-revealing dress she could find (she had miraculously recovered from her gun shot wound, much to the most-likely-disappointment of the Phantom), walked hand in hand with Signor Sanguine – dressed as a rather chubby cowboy – who was a member of her posse and the leading tenor _The Opera Populaire_ as well. Madame Bespoke wore a gray bustle dress with a mask that was blackened around the edges. Tanith was dressed in a plum dress, with her hair cascading down her back in waves. A green mask lay on her face. Monsieur Thrasher and Scapegrace were still dressed as fake Phantoms.

"_What a night!_" Madame Bespoke shouted.

"_What a crowd!_" Tanith replied.

"_Makes you glad!_" Monsieur Thrasher added.

"_Makes you proud!  
All the crème  
de la crème!_" Monsieur Scapegrace said, admiring the crowd around him.

Miss China sang, "_Watching us watching them!_"

"_And all our fears  
are in the past!_" Madame Bespoke and Tanith chimed in.

"_Six months..._" Monsieur Thrasher said, smiling at the lack of terror plaguing his place of business.

"_Of relief!_" Signor Sanguine agreed.

"_Of delight!_" Miss China said, kissing him lightly on the fleshy cheek.

"_Of Elysian peace!_" both Monsieur Scapegrace and Monsieur Thrasher shouted.

"_And we can breathe at last!_" Madame Bespoke and daughter sang, sighing in relief.

"_No more notes!_"

"_No more ghost!_"

Madame Bespoke raised a champagne glass and sang, "_Here's a health!_"

"_Here's a toast:  
to a prosperous year!_" Monsieur Thrasher agreed and raised his own glass.

Monsieur Scapegrace nodded and took a drink from his glass and sang:

"_To the new chandelier!_"

"_And may its  
splendor never fade!_" Signor Sanguine and Signora China sang, smiling.

"_Six months!_" Monsieur Scapegrace said.

"_What a joy!_" Madame Bespoke nodded and drifted away.

"_What a change!_" Tanith agreed and floated away in the same direction as her mother.

"_What a blessed release!_" Messieurs Thrasher and Scapegrace sang when they had reached the top of the stairs.

"_And what a masquerade!_"

They all went to find partners for dancing, ignoring the couple that had danced from the center of the commotion to a private little corner. The female wore a puffy navy blue dress with pearls along the sweetheart-neckline. The male had a gray suit on.

"_Think of it!  
A secret engagement!  
Look, your future bride!  
Just think of it!_" Stephanie said merrily, fingering the little ring hanging off a gold chain around her neck.

"_But why is it secret? What have we to hide?_" Fletcher Renn pleaded.

Stephanie sighed and shook her head sadly and sang, "_Please let's not fight…_"

"_Stephanie, you're free!_"

"_Wait till the time is right…_"

"_When will that be? _

_It's an engagement, not a crime! _

_Stephanie, what are you afraid of?_"

"_Let's not argue…_" Stephanie asked quietly.

"_Let's not argue…_" Fletcher muttered.

"_Please pretend…_" Stephanie begged.

"_I can only hope I'll…_"

"_You will…_"

They both grabbed the other's hands tightly and sang: "_…understand in time…_"

The lovers got into position and joined in the cheerful dance the rest of the guests. After dancing quite a while, Stephanie decided she was to rest a moment and went to sit in some chairs in a corner. She smiled and watched the dancing and laughter and general happiness. She hadn't felt this happy in a while. She had felt…afraid these last six months.

"Do you mind, mademoiselle?" a rich voice suddenly asked.

Stephanie looked up and saw a tall man, dressed completely in white. His mask was white (it covered his whole face, save the eyes, mouth, nose); his suit was white; his shoes were white; his cane was white. The only different color on him was his eyes, and they were green.

"No, please, monsieur," she replied quickly, gesturing to the seat.

The man sat and admired the dancing as well. "Weren't you the lovely star who broke your leg? Or arm? It was something like that, wasn't it?"

Stephanie nodded. "I sprained my ankle. Though it's almost completely healed now. It only acts up when I walk or run too much."

"Ah, that's lovely to hear, mademoiselle," he said, smiling. "I believe I've seen you as Elissa from _Hannibal_? You were simply marvelous. It's a shame you haven't been the star, and Signora Giudicelli receives all the major roles. _You_ actually had a beautiful voice. She…sounds like an elephant dying."

Stephanie laughed a moment, but her breath suddenly hitched. She glanced at the man, her eyes wide with fear. He tilted his head at her quizzically and smiled.

"Something the matter…my Angel?" he asked innocently.

Stephanie stood instantly and almost screamed, but the man jumped up and disappeared in a flash.

"Who was that?" Fletcher asked wildly, coming up behind her. "Are you hurt? What did he want?"

Stephanie opened her mouth to explain it to him, but the singing crowd joined together in a perfectly in sync dance. They all sang loudly:

"_Masquerade!  
Paper faces on parade!  
Masquerade!  
Hide your face,  
So the world will never find you!  
Masquerade!  
Every face a different shade!  
Masquerade!  
Look around –  
There's another mask behind you!_

_Masquerade!  
Burning glances,  
Turning heads…  
Masquerade!  
Stop and stare  
At the sea of smiles around you!  
Masquerade!  
Grinning yellows,  
Spinning reds,  
Masquerade!  
Take your fill –  
Let the spectacle  
Astound you!_"

A few ladies and gentlemen screamed as darkly dressed figure seemed to materialize out of nowhere. He wore a long flowing black cape with red edging at the bottom. His shoes were so shiny one could see a reflection in them. A white scarf hung limply around his shoulders, while a black fedora was placed on his head. His hands were in his pockets; his stance was so casual it was like he was simply taking a walk around the park.

The most surprising thing about him was his face. It was completely covered with a very life-like mask of a skull! It moved when he talked and everything! The Phantom of the Opera sighed and began stepping down. He sang casually:

"_Why so silent, good Messieurs?  
Did you think that I had left you for good?  
Have you missed me, good Messieurs?  
I have written you an opera!  
Here I bring the finished score – 'Don Juan Triumphant'!  
I advise you to comply –  
My instructions should be clear –  
Remember,  
There are worse things than a shattered chandelier…_"

The Phantom threw the leather bound script on the floor by the mangers' feet and gave a quiet laugh. He sharply turned and gazed around the room. He said grandly, "Now, where is my little nightingale? My precious angel? My Stephanie Daaé?"

He turned around again and spotted her standing inconspicuously behind Fletcher.

"Come here, my love," he coaxed sweetly, beckoning with one finger. He laughed softly in triumph as Stephanie inched from behind Fletcher. That fop tried to prevent her from moving, but the Phantom's deep gaze held her own, and she was in a bottomless trance. She stood below him a step and looked up at him.

"I have missed you," he muttered and ran a gloved hand over her cheek and through her hair. "I have missed you so much. Can you even fathom how much I've yearned for you, dearest?"

Stephanie couldn't move. Her breathing became erratic. The Phantom suddenly lunged forward and clutched her arms harshly.

"I hope," he said lowly, "you've been grieving over the crimes you've committed against me. Do know you have betrayed me? I…gave you your music, and you are a traitor against your own tutor."

He glanced down at her chest as it rose quickly from her wild breathing. The twinkling ring on the gold chain shone in the light, and he was suddenly overcome with anger. He ripped the necklace from her neck and shoved it her face, shouting,

"_Your chains are still mine –  
you will sing for me!_"

He retreated up the steps and stood tall and straight in the same spot he had appeared. He pocketed the gem and cackled a moment before setting off his gun in the air and disappearing in another flash. Everyone screamed as the huge room was plunged into darkness. Tanith rushed to grab Stephanie as she fainted. She tried calling to her mother, but Madame Bespoke was nowhere to be found…

* * *

Fletcher Renn raced after Madame Bespoke. She had rushed from the room after the Phantom had made his grand exit. Madame Bespoke had always been a firm believer in the Phantom and knew he was not lying when there would be disasters. Therefore, Fletcher figured she actually _knew_ the Opera Ghost. Stephanie claimed to have met him and spent time with him, but she did not know his whole story.

"Madame! Please! Wait!" he called desperately, running after the ballet instructor.

"Please, monsieur, I know nothing!" she replied hastily. She ran to her room and almost shut the door, but Fletcher caught up in time and stopped it with his foot.

"You _have_ to tell me the truth!" he pleaded. "Please, Madame. It's obvious you possess so much more knowledge about the Phantom than anyone here. You are keeping information from us – I know it. Please. Just tell me what you know. It could possibly save more lives." He shuddered as he thought of Caelan the Stagehand's body laying on the stage, blood pooling around the hole in his head.

Madame Bespoke sighed and gestured Fletcher in. She shut and locked the door and directed him to sit down. She placed herself uneasily on the chair opposite the patron and sighed again.

"What do you know of him?" Fletcher asked first.

"He…admittedly, is a tortured soul," she said simply.

"What happened to him to make him this way?"

"I do not know the whole story," she admitted softly, "but he has explained pieces to me. Tristan Hayes is his real name. He was born to an absent father and a failure mother, so he says, and he ran away from his home at age ten. He joined a…circus and worked as a magician's assistant. The magician, who was named Herr Serpine, as he was German, taught him everything he knew. Tristan refused to explain any deeper into that part after that, but he said he became corrupted in some way because of what he was taught. He grew like any other human being, and he eventually impregnated a beautiful gypsy, Evangeline Falls. They were married quickly, though it was a happy marriage despite the circumstances. She gave birth to a healthy baby boy, who they named Damien. From that point on, it is fuzzy."

Fletcher exhaled quietly and asked her, "Well, do you know anything else?"

"He told me simply that his wife and child were killed tragically, and he was left to live, knowing he was not strong enough to save his family."

"Oh, dear." Fletcher paused. "How did you come across him?"

"I was walking down the street one night," she explained, "when I suddenly felt a gun to my throat. He was trying to rob me. I tried telling him I had no money, but he would hear none of that. He was about to shoot, but we both heard shouts coming from a way off, calling for 'that magician's head'! Tristan…he suddenly began talking to himself wildly, like he was trying to decide what to do. The mob was closer then. I grabbed his hand and dragged him back the way I had come.

"I led him through an underground passage to a cavern below the opera house. He wore the scarf and hat costume he still wears today. There is something wrong with his face, Monsieur Renn. But even after all these years, I have not seen it, nor have I been given any hints as to what is wrong. He will not tell me anything else. He is an enigma."

* * *

Thaaaanks for reading and sorry for any mistakes! :DDD


	12. Chapter 12

Monsieur Thrasher groaned and buried his face in the papers on his desk. He looked up sharply when his business partner entered their office.

"_Ludicrous!  
Have you seen the score?_" he asked anxiously.

"_Simply ludicrous!_" Monsieur Scapegrace agreed tightly, nodding his head.

"_It's the final straw!_" Monsieur Thrasher responded.

"_This is lunacy!  
Well, you know my views!_"

"_...Utter lunacy!_"

"_But we daren't refuse..._" Monsieur Scapegrace sighed and threw a note he received from O.G. on the desk.

"_Not another  
chandelier!_" Monsieur Thrasher groaned.

"_...Look, my friend, what  
we have here ..._" Monsieur Scapegrace picked up two notes addressed to the two different managers. He handed one to Monsieur Thrasher, who read it aloud:

"_'Dear Thrasher,  
Re my orchestrations:  
We need another first bassoon.  
Get a player with tone -  
and that third trombone  
has to go!  
The man could not be deafer,  
so please preferably one  
who plays in tune!'_"

Monsieur Scapegrace rolled his eyes and read his own note aloud:

"_'Dear Scapegrace,  
vis a vis my opera:  
some chorus-members must be sacked.  
If you could, find out which  
has a sense of pitch -  
wisely, though,  
I've managed to assign a  
rather minor role to those  
who cannot act!'_"

The two both exhaled at the same time and began pacing around the office. Monsieur Thrasher was almost hit in the face when Miss China and Signor Sanguine burst through the office doors.

"_Outrage!_" Miss China screeched.

"_What is it now?_" Monsieur Scapegrace asked.

"_This whole affair is  
an outrage!_"

"_Now what's the matter?_" Monsieur Thrasher said.

"_Have you seen  
the size of my part?_" Miss China screeched again, pointing a menacing finger at the score lying on the desk.

"_Signora, listen ..._"

Signor Sanguine threw his hands up in the air and shouted, "_It's an insult!_"

"_Not you as well!_" Monsieur Scapegrace moaned.

"_Just look at this -  
it's an insult!_" Signor Sanguine said and also pointed to the score.

"_Please, understand..._"

"_Signor! Signora!_"

Miss China rolled her eyes and stated dryly, "_The things I have  
to do for my art!_"

Signor Sanguine huffed, "_If you can call this gibberish "art"!_"

The doors opened with less force this time, and Stephanie and Fletcher entered. Stephanie's eyes were wide, with her hair quite messy.

"_Ah! Here's our little flower!_" Miss China said sarcastically.

Monsieur Scapegrace greeted her, offering her a chair, noticing her pale and rather green face. He sang:

"_Ah Miss Daaé,  
quite the lady  
of the hour!_"

Monsieur Thrasher came up behind him and added:

"_You have  
secured the largest role  
in this 'Don Juan'._"

Miss China scoffed and said loudly for all to hear, "_Stephanie Daaé? She doesn't have  
the voice!_"

Monsieur Scapegrace glared at the soprano and pleaded, "_Signora, please!_"

"_Then I take it  
you're agreeing,_" Fletcher began, but was cut off by Miss China's loud voice saying:

"_She's behind this..._"

Monsieur Thrasher sighed and gave up and said:

"_It appears we have  
no choice._"

"_She's the one  
behind this!  
Stephanie Daaé!_" Miss China sang highly and pointed a finger at Stephanie.

Stephanie stood up triumphantly and finally said:

"_How dare you!_"

"_I'm not a fool!_" Miss China responded hotly.

"_You evil woman!  
How dare you!_"

"_You think I'm blind?_"

Stephanie crossed her arms and sang:

"_This isn't my fault!  
I don't want any  
part in this plot!_"

Monsieur Scapegrace said uneasily, "_Miss Daaé, surely..._"

"_But why not?_" Monsieur Thrasher demanded.

"_It's your decision  
But why not?_"

Miss China announced happily, "_She's backing out!_"

"_You have a duty!_"

Stephanie shook her head and said resolutely:

"_I cannot sing it,  
duty or not!_"

Fletcher turned to her and gripped her shoulders and muttered to her softly:

"_Stephanie...  
Stephanie...  
You don't have to...  
they can't make you..._"

The doors opened again, and everyone realized the room was getting quite crowded. Madame Bespoke entered and held a thin piece of paper in her hands. She said solemnly:

"_Please, monsieur:  
another note."_

Everyone groaned. Madame Bespoke rolled her eyes and read the note aloud:

_"'Fondest greetings  
to you all!  
A few instructions  
just before  
rehearsal starts…_'"

Her voice faded out, it seemed, and it was replaced by a male voice. Naturally, the Phantom of the Opera had been watching the whole scene from an unseen corner, and he decided he could join in the frantic singing:

"_'Miss China must be  
taught to act…  
…not her normal trick  
of strutting round the stage.  
Our Don Juan must  
lose some weight -  
it's not healthy in  
a man of Sanguine's age.  
And my managers  
must learn  
that their place is in  
an office, not the arts._

_As for Miss Stephanie Daaé..._  
_No doubt she'll_  
_do her best - it's_  
_true her voice is_  
_good. She knows, though,_  
_should she wish to excel_  
_she has much still_  
_to learn, if pride will_  
_let her_  
_return to me, her_  
_teacher,_  
_her teacher...'_"

He let off and kept quiet for the rest of the unfolding action.

Madame Bespoke finished reading the note by saying his regards:

"'_Your obedient friend...  
...and Angel..._'"

Everyone was silent for a few moments. Stephanie shivered to think of that horrible man thinking of her so much and in such a high manner. Fletcher suddenly burst out quickly, though, singing: _  
_  
"_We have all been  
blind - and yet the  
answer is staring us  
in the face ...  
This could be the  
chance to ensnare our  
clever friend ..._"

"_We're listening…_" Monsieur Thrasher urged, becoming intrigued.

"_...Go on,_" Monsieur Scapegrace added too.

Fletcher nodded and held up a finger, saying, "_We shall play his  
game - perform his  
work - but remember we  
hold the ace ...  
For, if Miss Daaé  
sings, he is certain  
to attend ..._"

"_We make certain  
the doors are barred…_" Monsieur Thrasher muttered, catching on.

"_We make certain  
our men are there…_" Monsieur Scapegrace said too.

"_We make certain  
they're armed…_" Fletcher cried.

The three shouted together:

"_The curtain falls.  
His reign will end!_"

Silence followed a moment, but Madame Bespoke cried desperately:

"_Madness!_"

"I'm not so sure…" Monsieur Thrasher muttered.

"_Not if it works…_" Monsieur Scapegrace said defiantly, defending the plan.

"_This is madness!_" Madame Bespoke shouted again.

"_The tide will turn!_"

"_Monsieur, believe me -  
there is no way of  
turning the tide!_" Madame Bespoke begged them to understand.

"_You stick to ballet!_" Monsieur Thrasher commanded.

Fletcher shouted desperately, "_Then help us!_"

"_Monsieur, I can't…_"

"_Instead of warning us…_"

Fletcher and the managers all barked, "_Help us!_"

"_I wish I could…_"

The three rounded on her again and cried this time:

"_Don't make excuses!_"

"_Or could it be that  
you're on his side?_" Fletcher accused her.

"_Monsieur, believe me,  
I intend no ill…  
But messieurs, be careful -  
we have seen him kill…_" Madame Bespoke tried shouted, trying to get them to recollect the horrors of _Venus and Adonis_.

Instantly, everyone began shouting and talking and singing at once. Who was saying what was lost to everyone.

"_We say he'll fall  
and fall he will!_"

"_She's the one behind this!  
Stephanie!  
This is a ploy to help,  
Stephanie!_"

"_This is the truth!  
Stephanie Daae!_"

"_This is his undoing!_"

"_If you succeed  
you free us all -  
this so called 'angel'  
has to fall!_"

"_Angel of music,  
fear my fury -  
Here is where you fall!_"

"_Hear my warning!  
Fear his fury!_"

"_What glory can  
she hope to gain?  
It's clear to all  
the girl's insane!_"

"_Stephanie sings  
We'll get our man…_"

"_She is crazy!  
She is raving!_"

"_If Stephanie helps  
us in this plan…_"

"_Say your prayers,  
black angel of death!_"

"_Please don't_," Stephanie squeaked pitifully, but it was lost amongst the yells of everyone else.

"_...If Stephanie won't,  
then no-one can…_"

"_Monsieur, I beg you,  
do not do this…_"

"_This will seal his fate!_"

Finally Stephanie had enough. She stood up suddenly and shouted:

"_If you don't stop,  
I'll go mad!_"

Everyone was quiet. Stephanie sighed and turned to Fletcher and sang:

"_Fletcher, I'm frightened -  
don't make me do this...  
Fletcher, it scares me -  
don't put me through this  
ordeal by fire...  
he'll take me, I know...  
we'll be parted for ever...  
he won't let me go..._

_What I once used to dream  
I now dread...  
if he finds me, it won't  
ever end...  
and he'll always be there,  
singing songs in my head…_

_He'll always be there,  
singing songs in my head…_"

Miss China rolled her eyes and scoffed, "_She's mad…_"

Fletcher approached Stephanie and muttered:

"_You said yourself  
he was nothing  
but a man…_

_Yet while he lives,  
he will haunt us  
till we're dead…_"

She turned away and sang:

"_Twisted every way,  
what answer can I give?  
Am I to risk my life,  
to win the chance to live? _

_Can I betray the man  
who once inspired my voice?  
Do I become his prey?  
Do I have any choice? _

_He kills without a thought,  
he murders all that's good…  
I know I can't refuse  
and yet, I wish I could…_

_Oh God - if I agree,  
what horrors wait for me  
in this, the Phantom's opera?_"

"_Stephanie, Stephanie,  
don't think that I don't care -  
but every hope  
and every prayer  
rests on you now…_" Fletcher cooed, wiping away an escaped tear from Stephanie's face. She let out a strangled sob and fled the room quickly, slamming the door.

Fletcher groaned and began pacing. He looked around the room and shouted so that horrible Phantom could hear him, "_So, it is to be war between us! But this time, clever  
friend, the disaster will be yours!_"

* * *

Yaay chapter of just singing and plot! :D

Thanks for reading and sorry for any mistakes! :DDD


	13. Chapter 13

It was two months later.

Everyone, begrudgingly still, was practicing for _Don Juan Triumphant_. The costumes were completely done, and the sets were now simply being put up and together on the stage. The Phantom of the Opera commanded that the company have his work ready to perform and have its opening night on March 27. That was tomorrow! Stephanie Daaé grew more nervous and anxious everyday, and she knew the day of the actual performance would be a horrible, nerve-wrecking one. Fletcher assured her every time she expressed doubt in their plan that nothing could go wrong at all.

A daily rehearsal was doing terribly in every single way, and it was all thanks to Miss China. She continuously sang off key and the wrong lyrics just to see if the Phantom would appear in all his cape-and-scarf-glory. She took the wrong step and bumped into Stephanie forcefully when a dark figure swooped down from the ceiling and landed gracefully in center stage.

"Stephanie!" Fletcher cried and rushed from his seat in the theater. He launched himself onto the stage and held onto her waist.

"Signora Giudicelli," the Phantom of the Opera sighed, pulling out the huge silver gun casually and waving it around a little. "Why must you do this? Why do you not believe in my existence? Was the hole in that stagehand's head not proof enough? Or the hole in your leg? Perhaps I should add a scar to your other leg? Shall I? I will, Miss China, if you do not cooperate."

She stood straight and tall and said, "I'd like to see you do so, _ghost_. I am not afraid."

He howled with laughter and aimed the gun. He almost pulled the trigger, but Stephanie shouted, "Do it, and I will not sing."

The Phantom looked to her sharply and noticed Fletcher's hands on her sides. "**Get your hands off of her!**" the Phantom demanded.

"We will not be terrorized by you any longer!" Fletcher said.

"**Don't toy with me, boy!**"

"Ha, put down by the patron!" Miss China cackled. "I laugh at this pathetic scene."

The Phantom snarled and put the gun away. "You will sing it correctly, Miss China, or your life will be tragically ended incredibly painfully. I advise you to care and do this nicely, or more will suffer. And really, you should not be singing beautiful Miss Daaé's part. It was written specifically for her, Signora, and it honestly sounds like you are a dying crow as you sing her notes. My Aminta is perfect, and you are far from perfection."

Stephanie flinched. He still considered her perfect. He was still obsessed with her.

"Would you care for a lesson, Signora?" the Phantom continued mercilessly, ignoring the diva's reddening face. "I would happily demonstrate how to actually sing, along with Miss Daaé. However, I feel she is far too terrified to even move without help from her master. How are you, my love?"

He beckoned her with a finger, and Stephanie reluctantly came forward. Fletcher tried holding her back, but it was a lost cause.

"_The Point of No Return_," he simply said, and the conductor hesitantly struck up the orchestra.

"Why do you haunt us?" Fletcher asked desperately, reaching forward and gripping Stephanie's hand. She shook her head wildly, trying to get rid of the fogginess in her mind.

"I am a ghost, Monsieur Renn," the Phantom replied simply, shrugging. "What more could you want from me?" He faced Miss China and asked, "Are you quite ready? Please take note, this is how to actually sing."

He opened his mouth and only got through the first few words of the first lyric when a shot rang out and almost hit the Phantom! Everyone screamed and ducked for cover, and a cast member pointed to box number five where Monsieur Scapegrace and a policeman were standing. The officer held a long rifle in his hand, and he was shouting, "Find him! Where did he go? Get him!"

Stephanie looked to the spot where the Ghost had just been. The only thing that was left behind was a hole in the ground where the bullet hit.

But they all suddenly heard cackling, and the Phantom's voice rang out, "**Seal my fate tomorrow – I hate to have cut the fun short, but the joke's wearing thin…**

"**Let the audience in…Let my opera begin!**"

The whole theater plunged into darkness. Everyone shouted and screamed in panic. The piano in the orchestra pit began playing, sending Stephanie into another trance-like state. She swayed to her feet and left the stage. She began singing quietly:

"_In sleep  
he sang to me,  
in dreams  
he came . . .  
that voice  
which calls to me  
and speaks  
my name…_"

She grabbed her long cloak and left the building. She offered money to the driver and directed him to take her to the cemetery. He obliged and set the horses up. He pulled the carriage to a stop some time later and helped Stephanie off. She thanked him, and he left, leaving her alone in the desolate cemetery where her father lay resting.

In her times of trouble, Stephanie Daaé spoke to her dear deceased father, Desmond. He had been a great man with love and care in his heart accompanied with forgetfulness and oddities. He sometimes forget to get dressed in the morning, and would arrive to important business meetings wearing his nightshirt. He tragically died a very long time ago when Stephanie was a young girl. He had promised her that she would be watched over…by an Angel of Music…

Loud and saddening church bells rang in the distance, and Stephanie sang to the chimes: _  
_  
"_Little Val'rie  
thought of everything and nothing…  
Her Father promised her  
that he would send her the Angel of Music…  
Her father promised her…  
Her father promised her…_"

She pushed open the gates and began her steady march into the cemetery towards her father's mausoleum. Stephanie let a few tears fall before she wiped them quickly with her sleeve and quietly sang:

"_You were once my one companion  
You were all that mattered  
You were once a friend and father  
Then my world was shattered._"

She turned the corner and kept her steady walk. More tears fell as she continued:

"_Wishing you were somehow here again  
Wishing you were somehow near  
Sometimes it seemed if I just dreamed  
Somehow you would be here_

_Wishing I could here your voice again_  
_Knowing that I never would_  
_Dreaming of you helped me to do_  
_All that you dreamed I could._"

She looked around at all the marble statues and barren trees. Snow covered everything. It was so cold.

"_Passing bells and sculpted angels, cold and monumental  
Seem for you the wrong companion, you were warm and gentle._

_Too many years_  
_Fighting back tears_  
_Why can't the past just die!_

_Wishing you were here again_  
_Knowing we must say goodbye_

_Try to forgive_  
_Teach me to live_  
_Give me the strength to try!_

_No more memories_  
_No more silent tears_  
_No more gazing across the wasted years..._

_Help me say goodbye!_"

Stephanie climbed the last step of the grand mausoleum built for her father. She sat delicately on the step and whispered, "_Help me say goodbye!_"

Stephanie sighed softly and let her tears fall in torrents. Her father was the only one who could really know how to help her, but he was gone! He'd been gone for so long! He promised an Angel but instead Stephanie got the Devil himself! Her sobs and cries came harder, then. But…a gentle voice erupted from above the mausoleum. Stephanie looked up in fright and slight awe and listened the to the voice sing:

"**Wandering child…  
So lost…  
So helpless…  
Yearning for my  
Guidance…**"

The voice quieted, and Stephanie responded:

"_Angel . . . or father . . .  
Friend . . . or  
Phantom . . .?  
Who is it there,  
Staring?_"

"**Have you forgotten your Angel . . .?**" the voice, a male, responded.

Stephanie's eyes lit up and a smile appeared. Oh, her Angel! It must really be him! She stood and sang:

"_Angel . . . oh, speak . . .  
What endless longings  
Echo in this whisper . . .!_"

Watching from the shadows was Fletcher. He arrived at the cemetery not long ago, searching for Stephanie. He realized she had left the stage after the incident with the Phantom, and he began screaming for her. Fletcher ran from the house and asked a few cab drivers where she had gone, and one told him that he took her himself to the local cemetery. Fletcher swore loudly and called on one of his horses. He mounted the animal and charged off to rescue his future bride.

Fletcher took a few steps forward and away from the shadows. He sang quietly as the other voice of the strange man sang too.

The other man sang powerfully:

"**Too long you've wandered in winter…**"

And Fletcher sang as he sang:

"Once again  
She is his . . ."

"**Far from my far-reaching gaze . . .**" They all soon realized that the voice was not _just_ a voice, but it had a body. This man, who had emerged from an unknown spot on the actual mausoleum roof, was dressed completely in black with a black hood over his face. He extended a finger and called his Stephanie forward silently.

"Once again she returns . . ."

Stephanie went wide-eyed and watched the dark man hungrily, almost. She sang against all the other singing:

"_Wildly my mind beats against you . . ._"

"**You resist . . .Yet your soul obeys…**"

"_The soul  
obeys . . ._"

". . . to the arms  
Of her angel . . .  
Angel or demon . . .  
Still he calls her . . .  
Luring her back, from the grave . . .  
Angel or dark seducer . . .?  
Who are you, strange  
Angel . . .?" Fletcher called out.

"**Angel of Music!  
You denied me**

**Turning from true beauty . . .  
Angel of Music!  
Do not shun me**

**Come to your strange  
Angel . . .**"

Stephanie joined in at the same time as the man was singing and said:

"_Angel of Music! I denied you  
Turning from true beauty . . .  
Angel of Music!  
My protector!  
Come to me, strange Angel!_"

Stephanie bounded back as the Angel of Music jumped from the roof and landed directly in front of her. Sweet-smelling fog began filling the air as the Angel held out his hand and bowed. Stephanie stretched out her arm but did not take the hand. She sang:

"_Angel of Music!_"

Almost sensually, the Angel was calling to her. His rich and velvety voice sent shivers cascading down her spine. His long black cape covered his whole body. He gripped the fabric and swished it around a little, cooing:

"**I am your Angel of Music . . .  
Come to me: Angel of Music . . .**"

But Fletcher suddenly leapt from the background and stood bravely against the dark figure and shouted:

"Angel of darkness!  
Cease this torment!"

The Angel did not stop his summons. He continued to flick his hand softly, waiting for Stephanie to grab hold of it. He groaned out:

"**I am your Angel of Music . . .  
Come to me: Angel of Music . . .**"

Fletcher shouted in frustration and faced the two of them on the ground. He looked up at Stephanie, as she stood frozen, caught in the invisible gripping gaze of the Angel of Music.

He ascended the steps, shouting, "Stephanie! Stephanie, listen to me! Whatever you may believe, this man . . .this thing . . . is not your father!" He turned to face the Angel and screamed, "Let her go! For God's sake, let her go! Stephanie!"

Stephanie Daaé managed to tear her eyes from the darkened figure and stared at Fletcher blankly. Her lips moved to say his name, but no sound came out.

The Angel of Music cried in aggravation and stomped his foot, pulling off the hood, revealing a black fedora with a white scarf wrapped around the face.

Stephanie screamed and tried running, but the Phantom of the Opera grabbed her arm harshly and kept her grounded. He shouted to Fletcher, "Bravo, monsieur! Such spirited words!"

Fletcher gasped. "More tricks, monsieur?"

The Phantom laughed and removed his massive silver gun from his suit pocket. He waved it about madly, pushing Stephanie away from him and propelling himself up to the roof somehow.

"Let's see, monsieur, how far you dare go!" he shouted happily, shooting the gun and hitting a spot near Fletcher.

"More deception? More violence?" Fletcher demanded, dodging the bullet. He advanced a few steps.

"Fletcher, no…" Stephanie cried weakly.

"That's right, that's right, monsieur - keep walking this way!" the Phantom laughed and began pacing the roof. He stopped and suddenly jumped down to face Fletcher directly.

"You can't win her love by making her your prisoner!" Fletcher spat.

"Oh? You think she does not love me? Me, the dashing Phantom of the Opera? The beautiful Angel of Music? I am her everything, and you are nothing to her." The Phantom laughed.

Fletcher hollered in anger and reached out and shoved at the Phantom. He blindly fumbled around and smiled when he felt his hands wrap around the fabric of the cape the Phantom wore. He dragged the man forward, and Fletcher adjusted so he could punch the man.

"Fletcher, don't…" Stephanie called again.

"Stay back!" he shouted to her.

"I'm here, I'm here, monsieur: the angel of death! Come on, come on, monsieur! Don't stop, don't stop!" the Phantom called manically and thrashed about. He broke free from the patron's grip and laughed in triumph. "Again, monsieur, you think she does not love me? I know for certain that Miss Stephanie Daaé could never let me go!"

He stood back and reached to grab the scarf and hat away. He held the articles tightly and smirked as Monsieur Renn staggered back in shock. Those green eyes and pale skin were all too familiar!

"Him?" he shrieked at Stephanie. "Him! 'Lucas Mallory' was the Phantom the whole time!"

The Phantom cackled again and bowed. "Monsieur Renn, a pleasure to see you again! I have wanted to wring your scrawny neck the moment I saw you. And now that you believe you lay a claim to my precious Stephanie Daaé…I will kill you."

He threw the things on the ground and pulled the gun out again. "I hope you rot in Hell," the Phantom said brightly and shot the gun.

Fletcher screamed in pain as the bullet managed to graze his arm. Stephanie screamed too as blood poured from the wound.

"Please, please, please stop!" she begged.

"I will if you come with my, my dearest," the Phantom replied lowly. "Come away with me so we may never be disturbed again. I love you. You admitted such feelings for me, do you not remember?"

Stephanie ignored his words and rushed to help Fletcher. The bullet had not entered his actual body, but it had certainly hit him hard. His hands were coated with crimson blood, and the snow on the ground began to color as well.

"I see, I see, I see," the Phantom muttered. "You choose a worthless fop over me! What could this man give you? You will _never_ love him like you love me, precious Stephanie Daaé. You will _never_."

"Oh, shut up!" Fletcher Renn roared and staggered up. He gripped the sharp sword he kept tied to his waist and brought it out and positioned it in front of the Phantom's face. The Opera Ghost simply laughed.

"All right, you will end up hurting someone with that little toy, good sir. I advise you to put it back and allow me to take what is rightfully mine."

"_Yours_?" Fletcher shouted in anger. He lunged suddenly, and surprisingly, it was far too quick for the Phantom. The sword caught his cape and tore at it. The Phantom growled and retreated slightly, but pulled out his own sword he kept cleverly concealed.

And they fought.

Stephanie completely expected poor Fletcher to be completely overcome by the Phantom, but it seemed to be an almost equal match. The Phantom was considerably more graceful with his movements and strikes, but Fletcher seemed to…teleport across their makeshift battlefield. One moment he would be standing directly in front of the Phantom, and then suddenly he would take a step to the side and be behind him! The Phantom, though, became quickly familiar with Fletcher's fighting style and adjusted appropriately.

Their swords clashed and banged and created sparks everywhere. Fletcher drove the Phantom backwards and almost sent him careening into defenseless Stephanie, but he quickly dove out of the way and sent another blow towards Fletcher.

"You make this so exciting, Monsieur Renn!" he cried happily. "It appears you are trying. I am not breaking a sweat in the slightest."

"I hate you," Fletcher panted.

The Phantom nodded. "The feeling is mutual."

Fletcher howled in rage. He pounced forward and swung and hit the Phantom in the face with the butt of his sword. The Phantom was momentarily stunned and could not move. He fell pitifully in a heap, his cloak spreading out all around him. His gloved hands shakily reached up to his face, and he suddenly shrieked. He flailed a moment and then staggered away.

"Don't you _dare_ run away from me, you coward!" Fletcher barked.

The Phantom's frantic footsteps stopped suddenly, and they searched for his black figure.

"I, the coward, monsieur?" he boomed from somewhere above. "I have seen such horrible things in my lifetime. I have seen death and despair and misery and pain and joy and love and hatred. I am no coward. The world is a coward."

"What does that even _mean_?" Fletcher cried in fear. "You horrible beast! Too afraid to show your face!" he suddenly shouted.

"Fletcher, _please_," Stephanie begged quietly. "Just…can we go? Your arm…it's still bleeding…Please don't hurt him."

He stared at her in amazement. "You…You are _protecting _this creature? Are you still in love with him?"

Quietly, the Phantom sang: "_I am your Angel of Music…Come to me: Angel of Music…_"

Stephanie stammered for words. "Please don't hurt him…" she eventually whispered, broken and destroyed and wrecked.

Fletcher Renn sighed and helped her over to the horse he had arrived on. He held her hand as she stepped onto the equestrian, and he hopped up behind her and took the reins. The horse began clopping away at his command, leaving the Phantom alone in the cold and fog.

He emerged from his perch on the mausoleum. He shook his head and fastened his cape around him tighter. A quiet sob racked through his old body. But the Phantom shook the cry and gripped his breast pocket where he kept the engagement ring that Fletcher had given Stephanie that he had stolen. He would marry her, and no one else would ever have her. The Phantom gripped his cloak and opened the trap door in the roof. As he descended the rickety stairs, he stared and could just see the horse with his love and her love riding away.

The Phantom of the Opera growled and shouted, "**Now let it be war upon you both!**"

* * *

Ooh, that was really long ): Sorry about that.

I hope I made who was talking obvious enough. If you couldn't figure it out or my writing was unclear, Fletcher's words/singing were underlined. The Phantom's was bolded. Stephanie's was italicized. I thought that made a better solution than continuously added dialogue tags. With those parts where it's all of them singing together, I kind of think the tags disrupt it...Yeeeahhh...

But thanks for reading and sorry for any mistakes! :DDD


	14. Chapter 14

Madame Bespoke helped Stephanie Daaé into the tight dress the Phantom of the Opera requested be made for Aminta, the leading female role of his own work. Madame Bespoke adjusted the sleeves and skirts and directed Stephanie to lean onto something as she tired the corset tightly.

"Do not worry, my dear," Madame Bespoke whispered. "Nothing will happen to you if you completely obey him."

Stephanie sighed. "I wish I could believe you, Madame; but I know he'll…do something to me. No matter how perfectly I sing for his opera…he'll take me…"

Madame Bespoke reached to hug her adoptive daughter. "We will do everything to ensure your safety, Stephanie."

She cupped her chin and tried a smile. Madame Bespoke stepped around the folding screen to grab an accessory for her hair, but she screamed.

"Madame, please, use your inside voice," the Phantom of the Opera laughed.

Stephanie gasped and dived out from behind the folding screen and tried to escape, but a bottle of perfume suddenly hit the wall beside her face. She turned back and saw the Phantom place his hand on another bottle.

"Stay, dearest," he said casually. "But you, Madame Bespoke, perhaps you might leave?"

"I will not leave her alone," she said bravely.

"I only wish to speak with her for a few moments, Madame. Please, I promise you no harm will come to her...Physically."

Stephanie shivered and wrapped her arms around her body protectively.

"I would advise you to _leave_."

Madame Bespoke felt a spasm rock through her as his deep eyes held her own in a staring contest. She eventually stumbled to the door, ignoring Stephanie's whimper as she left and shut the door tightly.

"Come here, my love," the Phantom beckoned, sitting up a little from his slumped position on the couch.

"Stop calling me names," Stephanie replied quietly.

"How can I call you anything you are not? You are not _just_ 'Stephanie Daaé.'"

"Yes. I. Am."

"Bravely defying me, I see." He chuckled quietly and hung his head down lower. When he looked back up, his eyes were bright and his grin menacing.

Stephanie shrank back as he rose from the couch and stalked to her. He seemed to tower over her. A long, leather gloved hand crept to her waist, and his stroked the fabric of her dress.

"Please don't touch me…" she whispered urgently.

"But I have done so many times in the past…" he replied huskily, descending down on her neck and nipping at the flesh.

Her hands came to push on his shoulders harshly, but he only gripped her body tighter. She cried out loudly, trying to gain someone's help or attention, but the Phantom silenced her protests with his lips. He covered her mouth with his own and laughed softly when her entire body went slack. His touch still got her, at least.

Stephanie let out a muffled moan and panted, "Please stop this…"

"You seem to be enjoying this, my dear," he answered curtly. He gripped her skirts hard and trailed down to her neck, earning a cry from Stephanie for his pains.

"Sing for me, my Angel of Music," he crowed.

She gasped at the command. "If you let me go…I'll sing tonight in your opera."

"I may take you away with me, though." His hands traveled further up her body, barely avoiding her chest. He traced her firm collarbones, felt the flesh of her neck, and pulled severely at her back.

"Say you love me," he growled in her ear suddenly sharply.

Stephanie pulled back and staggered away. She hit the wall as he advanced slowly. "Leave me alone, _please_."

"I will never."

He lunged and grazed over her chest softly but went back as soon as he realized what he had done. Hmm. How…_strange_. What _strange_ body parts those were…Hmmm. It had been too long. Too long, too long. He had waiting so patiently for new love…and now he would take it. His state of mind switched from insane and homicidal to lucid and content. No, he shouldn't take advantage like this..._Ohh, _he didn't care!

The moment his hands clasped the strings and ties in the back of her dress, an incredibly heavy knock was heard.

"Stephanie?" Fletcher Renn shouted, worried. "Oh, what is he doing to you?"

"Foolish little boy…" the Phantom replied from the room. He instantly backed off of Stephanie the moment Fletcher burst into the room.

"How is that arm, Monsieur Renn?" he asked happily. The Phantom of the Opera bowed gracefully and gave a sweep of his fedora before sinking into the ground suddenly.

Stephanie immediately collapsed into a mound on the floor, feeling thoroughly violated and broken.

Fletcher sank down with her. "I'll tell them to call this off," he whispered. "We can lead a search to try and find his lair. He doesn't need to appear at this opera. No…I can't put you through this."

Stephanie shook her head and wiped away her tears. "No. We can't back down now."

* * *

The chorus for _Don Juan Triumphant_ formed together in a writhing circle. They were all dressed in dark and tight costumes. The stage was bathed in a scarlet light. A large bed sat ominously to the side, and it was made up nicely with plain white sheets and golden pillows. Vases of roses and orchids were spread everywhere. The chorus swayed together, singing:

"_Here the sire may serve the dam,  
here the master takes his meat!  
Here the sacrificial lamb  
utters one despairing bleat!_"

Miss China joined in the group, standing in front of them all, gesturing wildly:

"_Poor young maiden! For the thrill  
on your tongue of stolen sweets  
you will have to pay the bill -  
tangled in the winding sheets!_

_Serve the meal and serve the maid!  
Serve the master so that, when  
tables, plans and maids are laid,  
Don Juan triumphs once again!_"

They all shuffled away, pointing to the pudgy Signor Sanguine as Don Juan, and his friend, Dusk, as Don Juan's servant, Passarino. They casually strolled along the stage, watching as Tanith, dressed as a gypsy, danced gracefully past them. Don Juan threw a rose at her, and she caught it neatly, bowing away and leaving the stage.

Don Juan took center stage and turned to Passarino and sang:

"_Passarino, faithful friend,  
once again recite the plan._"

Passarino laughed and responded, "_Your young guest believes I'm you - I, the master, you, the man._"

"_When you met you wore my cloak,  
with my scarf you hid your face.  
She believes she dines with me,  
in her master's borrowed place!_

_Furtively, we'll scoff and quaff,  
stealing what, in truth, is mine._

_When it's late and modesty  
starts to mellow, with the wine…_"

Passarino replied in song:

"_You come home! I use your voice -  
slam the door like crack of doom!_"

"_I shall say: 'Come - hide with me!  
Where, oh, where? Of course - my room!'_" Don Juan laughed and gestured to the vast bed behind them.

"_Poor thing hasn't got a chance!_" Passarino joined in.

"_Here's my hat, my cloak and sword.  
Conquest is assured,  
if I do not forget myself and laugh…_"

Don Juan handed the clothes to Passarino and turned and sashayed away from the stage. He ducked behind the back curtains. Passarino adjusted the cape to his own body as loud cymbals and drums clashed and sounded, and he cackled triumphantly. He dived away from view as Stephanie Daaé, dressed as Aminta, entered the stage. She sang perfectly:

"_No thoughts  
within her head,  
but thoughts of joy!  
No dreams  
within her heart  
but dreams of love!_"

From the side, Passarino took a few steps forward and looked back as his master, Don Juan, crept up behind him.

"_Master?_" he asked.

Don Juan wore a solid black cape, with a hood covering a good portion of his face and a black scarf draped over his shoulders.

Don Juan turned to him and whispered, "_Passarino - go away! For the trap is set and waits for its prey…_"

Passarino bowed and slunk away. Don Juan took light steps around a table set out for two. Aminta sat calmly at the table on the bench, about to bite into an apple, but Don Juan began suddenly and strongly,

"_You have come here  
in pursuit of  
your deepest urge,  
in pursuit of  
that wish,  
which till now  
has been silent,  
silent…_"

Aminta gasped and got up quickly. She began to retreat, but Don Juan reached out for her and gestured to the table.

"_I have brought you,  
that our passions  
may fuse and merge -  
in your mind  
you've already  
succumbed to me  
dropped all defenses  
completely succumbed to me -  
now you are here with me:  
no second thoughts,  
you've decided,  
decided…_"

He trailed off and stared at Aminta. His voice, low and seductive, began again:

"_Past the point  
of no return -  
no backward glances:  
the games we've played  
till now are at  
an end . . .  
Past all thought  
of 'if' or 'when' -  
no use resisting:  
abandon thought,  
and let the dream  
descend…_"

He crept closer to her and suddenly gripped her hands and placed them on his chest.

"_What raging fire  
shall flood the soul?  
What rich desire  
unlocks its door?  
What sweet seduction  
lies before  
us?_"

He placed his own hands on her shoulders and fingered the sleeves of the dress delicately. He pulled a little at the fabric, feeling the overwhelming urge to rip it off then and there. His hands grazed her stomach and buried themselves at her waist. He pulled her against his own body and felt a wild spasm rip through him. He turned her around, though, so his chest was against her back. Aminta shimmied against him, causing Don Juan to go practically wild.

"_Past the point  
of no return,  
the final threshold -  
what warm,  
unspoken secrets  
will we learn?  
Beyond the point  
of no return…_"

Aminta shivered at their closeness, but she suddenly pulled away, stepping frivolously to the other side of the stage. She smiled and placed her hands on her hips, recovering from their heated tangle. She sang:

"_You have brought me  
to that moment  
where words run dry,  
to that moment  
where speech  
disappears  
into silence,  
silence…_"

She too trailed off and stepped closer to the masked Don Juan. He sat on the bench, head bent down low. Stephanie suddenly felt uneasy about everything. She cast a sly glance to Fletcher, seated in box number five. But she knew that Aminta would not be so worried. Aminta would…advance upon Don Juan like he had just done. Had she been written like that purposely?

"_I have come here,  
hardly knowing  
the reason why . . .  
In my mind,  
I've already  
imagined our  
bodies entwining  
defenseless and silent -  
and now I am  
here with you:  
no second thoughts,  
_

_I've decided,  
decided…_"

By the end of her verse, she was standing behind Don Juan. Her hands clamped his angular shoulders and she sang:

"_Past the point  
of no return -  
no going back now:  
our passion-play  
has now, at last,  
begun . . .  
Past all thought  
of right or wrong -  
one final question:  
how long should we  
two wait, before  
we're one?_"

Her hands reached his forearms and lifted them up. She stepped around the bench and pulled Don Juan up so he was standing. She gripped his hands lovingly and placed them on her ribcage. He stroked the fabric, longing to feel the skin beneath them. Aminta continued:

"_When will the blood  
begin to race  
the sleeping bud  
burst into bloom?  
When will the flames,  
at last, consume  
us?_"

Her hands caressed his chest sensually, causing his body to convulse. Stephanie Daaé heard the man in front of her, touching her so intimately groan a very quiet, "Oh, Angel…"

And Stephanie, in her mind, began screaming and cursing this man in front of her. She tried running, but his gloved hands kept her grounded. To continue on with the show, together they sang passionately:

"_Past the point  
of no return  
the final threshold -  
the bridge  
is crossed, so stand  
and watch it burn…  
We've passed the point  
of no return…_"

They stopped. Stephanie shivered as his hands left her body. Lightning fast, her hands stretched out and ripped at the cape. The cloak tore from the shoulders, taking the scarf along with it.

There, a green eyed man with pale skin and black hair stood. Some audience members gasped at the different man. They had, obviously, been expecting Signor Sanguine…and not this strange character. Fletcher stood furiously and motioned to the managers to grab the nearest police officers.

The Phantom of the Opera inhaled sharply and almost ran from the stage, but he suddenly stopped and turned to face Stephanie Daaé again. He strode to her quickly, keeping his eyes locked with hers so she wouldn't run, and gripped her hands, cooing:

"_Say you'll share with  
me one  
love, one lifetime…  
Lead me, save me  
from my solitude…_"

He took away one hand from her own and reached into his breast pocket, producing the ring he had taken from her. He slipped it onto her finger and continued strongly:

"_Say you want me  
with you,  
here beside you . . ._

_Anywhere you go  
let me go too -  
Stephanie  
that's all I ask of y –_"

The Phantom almost reached the last word, but Stephanie began resisting his clutch. They lurched back in forth for a few moments, and with a sudden bout of confidence and strength, Stephanie pulled hard. She fell back on the ground hard and felt something long and cylindrical in her hand.

She looked up in horror at the Phantom of the Opera, noticing she had pulled off his entire arm.

* * *

:3

I LOVE MAKING HIM BAT-CRAP INSANE. IT'S SO FUN.

Thanks for reading and sorry for any mistakes! :DD


	15. Chapter 15

Time went slow.

Silence settled.

A lone audience member screamed.

The rest of the audience screamed.

Stephanie screamed.

The managers screamed.

The Phantom of the Opera howled in fury. His remaining arm felt his face, and he realized suddenly that the façade he wore up until then had receded, leaving his ivory skull to gleam. It was obvious that he was not faking the skull. His arm, made simply of bones and nothing else, was clutched in Stephanie's hand as she screamed and screamed at the sight of him. He, a walking, talking skeleton.

"Monster!" someone screamed.

"Demon!"

"He's dead!"

He cried out as he noticed guards charging towards him, so he bent down and grabbed Stephanie's arm and hoisted her up. She kept screaming, still. He wrapped his arm around her waist and propelled them into the air where they floated for a moment. He suddenly descended rapidly and kicked the table away, revealing a rather obvious hole in the stage. The two plunged through the opening as the rest of the audience continued to scream and shout in panic. All the curtains were lifted, and Tanith noticed the body of Signor Sanguine sitting limply against the wall. A hole was placed in the center of his head. She joined in the screaming. He must have been killed the moment those drums sounded!

Fletcher Renn ran onto the stage and almost jumped down in the gap after the Phantom, but Madame Bespoke suddenly grabbed his arm.

"Monsieur Renn, come with me! Monsieur Renn, I know where they are!" she said frantically.

Fletcher turned to her and said, "But can I trust you?"

"You must, but remember, always be aware of that gun!"

"I'll come with you!" Tanith said and came running to them.

"No, Tanith, you must stay here! Come with me Monsieur, hurry or we shall be too late!"

* * *

The Phantom dragged and pulled Stephanie behind him with his only arm. They wound their way through dark caverns with mold and rats everywhere. The Phantom suddenly snapped his fingers and conjured a flame into his hand. As they raced down, he shouted:

"_Down once more to the dungeon of my black despair!  
Down we plunge to the prison of my mind!  
Down that path into darkness deep as hell! _

_Why, you ask, was I bound and chained in this cold and dismal place?  
Not for any mortal sin, but the wickedness of my abhorrent_…" He trailed off abruptly, listening to the cries of a formed mob from above:

"_Track down this murderer!  
He must be found!_"

The Phantom growled, extinguished the flame in his hand after lighting the network of torches along the wall, and reached out and grabbed his arm from Stephanie's hand. He fed it through the sleeve of the suit he wore as he sang:

"_Hounded out by everyone!  
Met with hatred everywhere!  
No kind word from anyone!  
No compassion anywhere!  
Stephanie, Stephanie…  
Why, why?_"

He shook his head and a sob escaped his skeletal face. He gripped Stephanie's hand and tried pulling her, but she suddenly fell and cried in pain.

"Please, stop!" she begged. "I can't run!"

"Why not?" he demanded, shouting.

"My ankle!" she replied hotly.

The Phantom growled and advanced on her. He heaved her up into his arms bridal-style and plunged deeper underground, heading towards his dark lair, ignoring her struggles and cries of help.

* * *

Madame Bespoke raced down some steps below _The Opera Populaire_ with Fletcher right behind her.

"Listen for the gun," she was whispering over and over. The two heard the increasingly larger mob shout:

"_Track down this murderer he must be found!  
Track down this murderer he must be found!  
Hunt out this animal, who runs to ground! Too long he's preyed on us, but now we know, the phantom of the opera is here deep  
down inside! _

_He's here the Phantom of the Opera...  
He's here the Phantom of the Opera..._"

* * *

The Phantom arrived to the shore of the lake in his gondola. He stepped onto the solid ground and pulled Stephanie up. He had removed those constant gloves to reveal just plain bones for his hands. He threw off his suit jacket and rolled the sleeves of his shirt up revealing more bones as he kept his eyes trained on Stephanie.

"Get dressed," he grumbled.

"In what?" she replied, not afraid but angry.

"In _that_!" he shouted severely and pointed a long bony finger to a puffy wedding gown on a mannequin. Stephanie shouted in horror and shock, realizing he intended to marry her right then and there. The hollow eye sockets stared into her own eyes as she stepped softly to the dress. She removed the clothing from the stand, glaring at him the whole time, and disappeared behind a folding screen a ways off. She returned a few moments later with the gown on.

"_Have you gorged yourself at last in your lust for blood?  
Am I now to be prey to your lust for flesh?_" she demanded.

The Phantom looked up in sorrow and gasped at the sight of her. She looked…angelic from the neck down, but her face was tear-stained, and her eyebrows were furrowed together. He stepped to her and quietly sang:

"_That fate which condemns me to wallow in blood, has also denied me the joys of the flesh…  
This face - the infection which poisons our love… _" He left off and turned away a moment.

"I was once alive," he whispered. "I had a life. It ended, though…when my former master killed me for running from him. I had a wife and a child. A son. I loved them so much, dearest. They were my everything. But…Serpine…he killed them. I watched them _die_. He then killed me. I don't know how I came alive again…but suddenly I was aware and awake. You have to understand…I have lived with the thought of my family dying in front of my eyes. I was normal. But now I'm a freak! No one _dare_ look at the skeleton man! All those who pointed and screamed and got in my way are dead… I have the blood of the innocent dripping from my soul…That cruel man taught me magic, and it corrupted me in unimaginable ways."

The Phantom snapped his fingers and watched the flame dance around in his palm. "It was through magic I was able to keep up that face with the skin and eyes," he cooed. "The face you loved." He pulled down his shirt collar and revealed black symbols etched into his collarbones. "…Magic…" He turned as he spoke, with his voice so soft; it like he was in a trance.

He turned back to Stephanie swiftly, though. Her eyes were filled with tears. She reached out a hand to press to his face, but he batted it away. She turned, stunned, at his violent act. The Phantom turned angry again and shouted:

"_Pity comes too late - turn around  
and face your fate: an eternity of this before your eyes!_"

Stephanie replied softly:

"_This haunted face holds no horror for me now…  
It's in your soul that the true distortion lies…_"

"You lied to me for months," she whispered.

"It makes no difference," he said. "What I have done is nothing to the betrayal you committed against me. But I have forgiven you. The Phantom has forgiven his beautiful Stephanie Daaé."

She shrieked and knew she would be kept prisoner with him until the day she died and tried running, but the Phantom suddenly called out smugly:

"_Wait! I think, my dear, we have a guest!_"

He laughed and pushed past her. He stood by the waters as Fletcher Renn came into view. Fletcher saw the Phantom standing there happily, and he began charging. But the Phantom grabbed the pole from his boat and whacked Fletcher over his injured arm. Stephanie screamed as her lover fell unconscious.

Though Fletcher awoke a few moments later. He was tied to a wrought-iron gate closing off the lair. His hands and feet were completely immobile. The Phantom stood again on the shore. He noticed his guest was awake and arrogantly sang:

"**Sir, this is indeed an unparalleled delight!  
I had rather hoped that you would come.  
And now my wish comes true - you have truly made my night!**"

Fletcher growled at the living skeleton, vaguely horrified, and shouted:

"Free her!  
Do what you like only free her!  
Have you no pity?"

The Phantom laughed and turned his skull back. He called dryly:

"**Your lover makes a passionate plea!**"

Stephanie gasped and came running. She saw Fletcher tied up, though Fletcher could not see her, and screamed:

"_Please Fletcher, it's useless!_"

"I love her!  
Does that mean nothing?  
I love her!  
Show some compassion…"

The Phantom stalked towards him abruptly and shouted:

"**The world showed no compassion to me!**"

"Stephanie, Stephanie...  
Let me see her..."

The Phantom laughed and backed away to the side. Stephanie appeared in Fletcher's line of vision, and he cursed loudly when he saw the dress she had on. The Opera Ghost said coldly:

"**Be my guest, sir... **

**Monsieur, I bid you welcome!  
Did you think that I would harm her?**

**Why should I make her pay for the sins **_**which are yours**_**?**"

At this**, **he reached into his shirt and produced his massive silver gun from practically nowhere. He cocked the gun and held it so if shot, would instantly kill poor little Fletcher. The Phantom mockingly sang:

"**Order your fine horses now!  
Nothing can save you now - except perhaps Stephanie...**"

He turned to Stephanie and continued,

"**Start a new life with me -  
Buy his freedom with your love!  
Refuse me, and you send your lover to his death!  
This is the **_**choice**_** -  
This is the point of no return!**"

Stephanie sobbed as the ultimatum he presented became clear. She stepped down to the shore and sang:

"_The tears I might have shed for your dark fate grow cold, and turn to tears of hate!_

And now, altogether, their three voices blended together. They all pleaded and groaned and shouted at one another.

"Stephanie, forgive me please forgive me ...  
I did it all for you, and all for nothing…"

"_Farewell my fallen idol and false friend ...  
One by one I've watched illusions shattered!_"

"**Too late for turning back, too late for prayers and useless pity!**"

"Say you love him and my life is over!"

"**Past** **all hope of cries for help; no point in fighting!**"

"For either way you choose, he has to win!"

"**For either way you choose, you cannot win!**

**So, do you end your days with me,  
or do you send him to his grave?**"

"Why make her lie to you, to save me?"

"_Angel of Music..._"

"**Past the point of no return –**"

"For pity's sake,  
Stephanie, say no!"

"_...who deserves this?_"

"…**the final threshold...**"

"Don't throw your life away for my sake!"

"_When will you see reason?_"

"**His life is now the prize which you must earn!**"

They all slowed down, but continued singing.

"I fought so hard to free you…"

"_Angel of Music…_"

"**You've passed the point of no return…**"

The two men stopped at the same time, leaving Stephanie singing alone:

"_…you deceived me.  
I gave my mind blindly._"

The Phantom sighed heavily and still kept the gun on target for Fletcher's head. He sang:

"**You try my patience - make your choice!**"

Stephanie choked on a sob and stepped into the dirty lake. The dress instantly became soaked as she approached the Phantom. She whispered, "I could have learned to love you the way you are. But you have lied and deceived me too many times."

"You _betrayed_ me!" the Phantom insisted angrily, stomping his foot, splashing water everywhere.

Stephanie cast her eyes down low. She stared at the ring he had placed on her finger previously. She looked back up and saw the man who had loved her and cherished her for many, many years in that instant. She did not see a skeleton that had lied and tricked her.

"_Pitiful creature of darkness...  
What kind of life have you known?  
God give me courage to show you _

_you are not alone..._"

With a sudden spell of bravery and foolishness, her hands reached up to cup his skull. She leaned in.

And she kissed him.

It was strange, to say the least. Her warm lips molded against his cold and brittle teeth, but she did not stop. It felt scandalous and sinful. It felt ridiculous and idiotic. But she felt a tingling feeling stir up inside of her anyway.

The Phantom went rigid the moment her lips touched his teeth. He dropped his gun in the murky waters and placed his arms delicately on her shoulders. He felt a bubbly feeling form inside of the area where his stomach should be.

Fletcher stood, unhappily watching their passionate kiss. Stephanie had never kissed him like that! He averted his eyes from the scene and only looked back when the Phantom whimpered from the loss of contact. Stephanie stepped back and began saying something, but the mob that had banded together was approaching fast. They all shouted together:

"_Track down this murderer he must be found!  
Hunt out this animal, who runs to ground! Too long he's preyed on us, but now we know, the phantom of the opera is there  
deep down inside!_"

The Phantom suddenly began sobbing, and he staggered over to Fletcher. Stephanie almost screamed as a flame appeared in his hand. What was he doing?

But the Phantom instead bent down and burned away the ropes bounding Fletcher. Fletcher pulled away the strands of rope and bounded to Stephanie and wrapped his arms around her.

The Phantom groaned sadly and walked uneasily back to the ground. He kept walking as he began whispering, "Take her - forget me - forget all of this...Leave me alone – forget all you've seen..."

When the two didn't move, he stopped and turned to them. Suddenly, he was shouting and pointing all around.

"Go now - don't let them find you!  
Take the boat - leave me here, go now, don't wait...  
Just take her and go, before it's too late...  
Go!"

He watched in sadness as Fletcher guided Stephanie to the boat. He picked up the staff to steer the boat. They looked back as the gate blocking the exit of the lair raised. The Phantom stood in the shadows, with his stark white bony hands clutching a lever. Fletcher still wasn't moving. Finally, the Phantom screamed and pointed to the exit:

"**GO NOW!  
GO NOW AND LEAVE ME!**"

Fletcher nodded once to the man and began driving the boat. The Phantom watched them for only a moment, and then he ran. He ran from the main room, kicking everything in his way. He knocked over tables and broke vases. He abruptly stopped in front of the wall with the pristine painting of Stephanie. He stared at the thing a moment before pitifully collapsing. A mirror sat, broken on the ground. The Phantom glared at his reflection, disgusted at his appearance. He was dead. He was a freak of nature. An abomination. A beast, a monster, a zombie, a ghost! His slapped his hand to his face and cooed softly,

"_Masquerade...  
Paper faces on parade...  
Masquerade...  
Hide your face so the world will never find you..._"

He looked up as he heard the rustling of fabric. Stephanie stood there awkwardly, shifting her weight from foot to foot. She bent down to his level and slipped the ring from her finger and placed it on his own finger.

"I could have loved Tristan Hayes. But I could not have loved the Phantom of the Opera," she said simply.

The Phantom cried sadly, "_Stephanie, I love you..._"

Stephanie Daaé shook her head and ran. It was a few moments later when the Phantom heard her soft voice again. He, at first, thought she was singing to him…but he realized that that was a foolish notion.

"_Say you'll share with me, one love, one lifetime...  
Say the word and I will follow you..._"

Fletcher joined in quietly, "Share each day with me."

"_…each night…each morning…_"

"…each morning...each morning…"

The Angel of Music, the Opera Ghost, Skulduggery Pleasant, Lucas Mallory, Tristan Hayes, and the Phantom of the Opera promptly understood that he had lost. His plans to get Stephanie Daaé for himself had failed…but he accepted this. He knew, deep down, that she could never be truly happy with him.

The Phantom inhaled deeply and got up. Now he was calm. Now he was content. He strolled down to the shore of the lake and grabbed his gun from the water. He placed the fedora on his head and began wrapping his scarf around his face. He looked up and watched Stephanie and Fletcher disappear around the corner. He could have sworn he saw his Stephanie Daaé look back at him sadly, though. Perhaps it was just his wishful thinking. He stepped back to the painting and looked at her peaceful face.

He would miss her dearly.

The Phantom of the Opera pushed down on a stone in the wall and stepped through an entrance that opened up in the wall. He turned and took one long look at his lair. He heard the mob approaching, and he knew he had to leave. He remembered the days he spent thinking about his Stephanie Daaé and a tear fell from his empty eye socket. He wiped it away gently and sang pitifully but strongly:

"_You alone can make my song take flight -  
it's over now, the music of the night!_"

The secret passage closed behind him, and no one ever saw or heard the Phantom of the Opera again.

* * *

Wow, I'm actually really sad. Normally I don't get emotional over the stuff that I write, but this made me actually feel sad.

I thank you all for your kind reviews and your dedication. It was really great to write. Now I gotta make sure I don't keep the REAL Skulduggery Pleasant stuck in crazy Phantom of the Opera mode XDD

Thanks for reading and sorry for any mistakes~ :)


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